Dark Heritage Story 3 of 3
by Bookworm06
Summary: Set 10 years after "Destiny". Barnabas once again a vampire, must earn his son's forgivness to be free once more. Will he succeed? Based loosely on the IDEA of BtVS. No offense to the Buffy Fandom is intended.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

1991 - 10 years later

Lightning flashed, and rain tapped at the window, like skeletal fingers. In the darkened room, a lone figure stirred uneasily in the bed. Thunder rumbled directly overhead, making the cottage shake slightly the occupant of the bed, muttered in his sleep, his eyes moving rapidly, as he dreamed.

Lightning flashed again, brightening the room for an instant. The wind howled mournfully around the eaves, and rattled the windows. Another thunderclap followed by another flash, brought the occupant awake, sitting up with jolt, a cry of fear induced from his dream, frozen on his lips. The flash of lightning, for just a moment revealing the silhouette of a caped figure, standing in a corner of the room.

"Leave me alone," he said, sleepily, before lying back down, and finding sleep once more. When the lightning flashed again, the room was empty, save for the sleeping form, resting for now, undisturbed.

/

Sebastian eyed the youth before him with a critical eye. What he saw made him frown.

"Did you sleep well, last night, Matthew?" he asked, turning his attention to his notes. In reality, he was watching his charge over the top of his glasses. His sharp, grey eyes, watchful.

"As well as any other," replied Matthew, digging into his breakfast, unconcerned. "Apart from the storm, that is."

"You were out early," said the Watcher, conversationally.

"Yeah, went for a run, before breakfast. I know what a stickler you are, for exercise," the last was said, with a hint of boredom.

"And you know why it's important." began Sebastian, finally lowering his notes, and giving up all pretence of being interested in them. This had been becoming a regular occurrence over the last six months.

"Yeah, I know, and I still hate it. I didn't ask to be a Slayer!" he said, resentfully. "Just like I didn't ask for a lot of things, but they happened."

"Matthew…"

"Look I don't want to talk about this. I'm meeting Ben, and Megan, in a few minutes. I'll get around to my training in my time," he said, rising to his feet. He was tall, just short of six feet, and well muscled through his training with Sebastian. Though he was almost nineteen, he looked younger.

"Anyway, what's the point of being a Slayer in this pit? With a resident vampire, you'd think there'd be more, but there isn't."

"Matthew, your fath-"

Matthew whirled on him, his dark eyes, blazing. "He in _not_ my father, Sebastian!" he said vehemently, grabbing his jacket.

"Wait a minute!" said Sebastian rising to his feet, and following after him.

Matthew sighed, making a show of being delayed. "What?" he asked moodily.

"You're due for a blood test."

The Slayer turned, his dark eyes brooding. Sebastian could almost feel the hypnotic pull of those eyes…with difficulty he broke the contact. Matthew's dhampir powers had begun to grow.

"Again?" asked Matthew, not sounding so sure of himself. "I hated them when I was a kid and I hate them now. I can't see the point of them."

"I promised your mother," said Sebastian, truthfully. "That I would continue to monitor you."

"What for, Sebastian? Just what are you hoping to find?"

"I'm hoping to find nothing," he said, again truthfully.

"Well whatever it is, you haven't found it yet, so give up!" he said angrily, and turning headed out the door.

Sighing, Sebastian watched him go. "You're as stubborn as your father," he muttered to himself.

/

"You're not welcome here! Get out!"

"This is a public place! I have as much right to be here, as the rest of you!" said Matthew, heatedly, standing toe to toe with his adversary.

"You're not like the rest of us!"

"And what's that supposed to mean?" bristled Matthew. "All I want to do is use the phone!"

"It's out of order."

"Convenient, I _don't_ think!" he spat.

"Matt, what's going on?" asked a voice he recognised. He turned towards the sound, and jerking his thumb over his shoulder, said, "This jerk won't let me use the phone." He turned to face the man, " he reckons it's out of order."

Megan reached out to him, tugging him gently by the arm. "You can use the phone at my house, Matt," she said. "Come on, before there's any more trouble," she said worriedly.

He turned to her again, was about to protest, but changed his mind. Instead he nodded, and with a glare at the offender, said, "This isn't the end of this."

"What did you want to use the phone at the Coffee shop for, anyway? Did the storm knock out the line at the cottage?" Megan wanted to know as they walked towards her house.

"There's nothing wrong with the phone at the cottage," Matt explained. "I just wanted some place without Sebastian hovering over me. Where's Ben, anyway?" he wanted to know.

"He'll be along later, he asked me to come meet you, and it's a good thing I did."

He laughed unpleasantly. "Why? Don't you think I could handle that idiot?"

Megan looked up at him seriously. "That's just it, Matt, I know you can handle them, that's what I was worried about."

He glanced at her, his gaze softening. "You don't have to worry about me," he said gently. "I can look after myself."

They reached the house, and Matt suddenly felt unsure.

"I don't want to get you into trouble, with your parents," he said, to her unasked question.

She laughed a pleasant sound that thrilled him. "My parents are out, and Ben's meeting us here, anyway."

He still hesitated. Megan tugged at his arm, urging him towards the house. " Your just making a phone call."

"Want a coke?" she called from the kitchen, as he made his way into the drawing room.

"Thanks," he called back over his shoulder, as he looked around nervously.

This was the first time he'd been in this house. He knew that if he were discovered there, Megan would get into a lot of trouble, from her parents. He and Ben Marshall had been best friends, since they were children. Had even gone to school together.

When the trouble had started ten years before, Ben had been one of the few people to stand by him.

Although he had been an innocent victim of the events - he'd barely been nine - that had led to his father, being discovered as a vampire, and the consequence of his mother's murder at his father's hands, some people had erroneously tarred him with the same brush. The apple didn't fall far from the tree, as the old saying went.

"Here," she said, breaking into his thoughts, and handing him a can.

"Thanks," he said taking it from her.

She sat down on the sofa, and looked up at him over the rim of her can.

"So, what's the big mystery about this call, that you don't want Sebastian to know about?"

He took a sip of his drink, before sitting down beside her. "There's no mystery, really. I just don't think Sebastian would understand, or approve."

"I can't see that happening…what reason would he have?"

"I'm trying to find my mother's folks, and so far I haven't had much luck. Sebastian's ok, but he's so hung up on the training, and …" he left the sentence unfinished, and looked down at the carpet.

Megan reached out and grabbed his hand, squeezing it gently, making him look up at her. She smiled reassuringly. "It's ok, I understand, Matt."

He swallowed, unable to trust himself to speak. He stared at her a moment longer than he should, before pulling his hand away, and rising to his feet. "I'd better go, " he said awkwardly.

Before Megan could object, the sound of the door opening made them both look at each other guiltily.

"Megan?" called a male voice. "Megan are you here?"

"It's my father!" she whispered, her face pale.

Matt gulped audibly, as the drawing room doors opened.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Gil Philips was a big man. His bulk seemed to fill the space between the door and the kitchen. The two teenagers give each other a quick glance; Matthew's uneasy. Megan's father wasn't one of his sympathisers. He knew Megan would be in serious trouble when he left.

They both jumped off the sofa as though it had given them an electric shock.

Gil's eyes almost popped out at the sight of Matthew. He glared at him and then at his daughter. Her mother, Caitlin, hovering in the background, give a startled gasp.

"What is _he_ doing in this house!" he bellowed.

Matthew stood his ground, holding eye contact with the older man. "Mr. Philips," he began, but he was rudely cut off. "I want you out of this house, now!" he ordered. "How dare you come here!"

"Dad!" cried Megan, both horrified and embarrassed by her parent's outrage.

"He came to use the phone, for Heaven's Sake! The one at the Coffee shop is out of order, and…"

"I am not interested! Have you any idea what you've done, girl!"

"It's alright, Megan," said Matthew, stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets, and looking down at his feet. It was something that he had come to expect over the last ten years. And he knew enough by now, when to make a stand, and when to make a quick exit. This was one of those times. "I was just leaving anyway. Thanks for the coke, and the phone call."

Gil watched him disdainfully as he made his escape before turning his anger back to his daughter. "Have you learned anything over the last ten years! You know what his father's done! And what he is! And you invited him into this house..!"

"He's my friend!" Megan defended him. "Matthew can't be held responsible for what his father did. Matthew is nothing like him!"

"He is not welcome in this house! You will not see him again! Do you understand me!"

"No, I don't! Matthew's nothing like his father! He's my friend, and he's Ben's friend too! What do you want me to do! Stop seeing Ben, because he's Matt's friend? Well, I won't, so get used to it!" and she swept past him, meaning to follow after Matt.

Her father grabbed her by the arm, his fingers pinching the flesh of her upper arm. "If you go after him, Megan, then you're not welcome in this house," he said darkly.

Megan looked at her father, shocked. "I can't believe you mean that," she whispered.

"Believe me, Megan, I mean it. That boy is nothing but trouble. Like father, like son. You mind me, girl. You mind me well."

Megan tugged free from her father's pinching grip, and stared defiantly at him. "Maybe if you got to know Matt, you'd realise how wrong about him you are. If my friend's aren't welcome here, then neither am I." She hesitated a moment, before leaving the room, and the house.

"Stupid young fool!" he spat, after she had left. He turned to find his wife, who stood with such hatred on her face, that for a moment he was afraid of her. Without saying a word, she to left the room.

/

She found Matthew outside what had once been the Collins Cannery. Ben was with him, and when she reached his side, he grinned and held her to him a moment, kissing her ardently.

Matthew sighed and looked away, staring moodily up at the once proud building. Now it was a vacant ruin, with broken windows, and graffiti. His mind drifted back to the past. He'd had fond memories of coming here as a child, with his mother. Thoughts of Julia brought a stabbing lurch to his heart. He fought the dark rage that welled inside him, clenching his fists, until they turned white and shook.

"Sorry about my father, Matt," said Megan, ending the kiss, and pulling away from Ben slightly. Lately, for some reason, she found herself, uncomfortable with Ben's public displays of affection around Matt. Or the curious look that came into his eyes, when she realised that he'd been staring at her, when he thought she wasn't looking. Sometimes, it both frightened, and thrilled her.

Ben didn't seem to notice her, pulling away from him, or that she stood slightly closer to Matthew. "What's this?" he wanted to know, looking at his friend.

"I wanted to make a call, about my mother's folks. Mr Philips came home, before I had the chance," he quickly explained.

"Oh," said Ben slowly. "I bet that didn't go down too well."

"No," Matt said quietly. He sighed. "Look, I don't feel much like being a gooseberry, so I'll think I work on fixing the boat up," he said, turning his attention back to what was left of the Cannery. Since the events, Collinsport, and the jobs the Collins family had provided, had taken a serious hit. Now the seaport was barely surviving.

"You still think you can revive the Fleet?" Ben asked, still sceptical.

"I can try. Start off small, just one boat, and then, who knows? It might work. Won't know unless I try." Despite everything, his interest in Collins Enterprises hadn't dimmed. It was still very much apart of him. He felt his destiny was with the sea, and not as a Slayer, as Sebastian believed.

"That's all well and good, but how is one boat gonna help, when you have nowhere to process the fish? Be practical, Matt."

"One step at a time, Ben," said Matt still lost in thought. "I've almost fixed up one of the boats; a few repairs here and there, a lick of paint."

"Come on, Meg," said Ben, with a grin, steering his girlfriend towards his car, parked across the street. "Let's leave the fish tycoon to his work."

"Sorry again, about my father, Matt," she began, still embarrassed by the whole thing. "Good luck with the boat."

"Sorry to say it, friend, but you'll need it. After you get all this up and running, how are you even gonna get people to work here." He stopped, realising what he had said. "Oh God, Matt…"

Matthew bit his lip and looked anywhere but at Ben. He swallowed before answering. "I can at least try…" He looked up, and faced Ben. "Admit it; the place needs the business. Collinsport is falling apart, and no one gives a damn."

The three of them stood around awkwardly, reluctant to leave, the way things were. Finally Matt made the decision they were too embarrassed to make. "I'll see you guys around later."

"At the cottage?"

"Yeah, but I have something to do first, so I may be late."

"Need some help?" Ben asked.

"No, I can do this by myself, Ben. It's not that I don't..."

"Hey it's alright!" Ben assured him, clasping him on the shoulder. "But the offer's there."

/

It was only as they reached the car that Ben suddenly remembered why Matt had refused his offer of help.

"Dammit! I should have realised what he was talking about!" He turned to Megan, who was looking at him quizzically. "It's his mother's birthday!"

"Should we have left him alone do you think?" asked Megan at once concerned, looking back. Matthew had gone.

"Nah. You know how he is. He won't say it, but he wants to be alone. Come on. He'll be fine."

/

From the shadows of the ruined Cannery, Matthew watched them, as Megan paused and turned back. For a moment it seemed as if their eyes had locked, but he knew it was only wishful thinking. He waited until the car was out of sight before turning to the boat that he'd been working on.

Grabbing his box of tools, he began working on the engine. He hadn't been working long when his sharp hearing caught the sound of a strange footfall.

He straightened, wiping his hands on a greasy rag, turning towards the sound, curiously.

"Who's there?" he asked suspiciously.

A figure detached itself from the shadows. Though he was a complete stranger to Matt, he had the sudden feeling that he should know him. He was slightly shorter than he was, and slightly older. He seemed nervous.

"I was making enquires across the street," he said, half turning and indicating. "And they said that you might be able to help me."

"That depends on what you're after..."

"I was told that you would know where I can find, a Mr. Barnabas Collins."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Matthew paused in wiping his hands. He stared at the stranger, with a hint of contempt. He couldn't stop it from entering his tone, as he said, "And what makes you think that I'd tell you, if I did? You'd be wise to stay away from Barnabas Collins."

Shock registered on the stranger's face, before he could hide it. "I was told that you knew him."

"I know him, yes," spat Matt, "but like everyone else in this town, I keep my distance. Take my advice, forget your business with Barnabas, and head back to where you came from."

"I'm afraid that's impossible. I must see him." The stranger paused a moment, before adding, "You're his son, aren't you? Matthew Collins?"

"My name is Matthew Hoffman, and my answer remains the same. I have work to do." He turned his back on the stranger, and began working on the engine, pointedly ignoring his unwelcome visitor.

The older man wasn't going to be put off. "Well, if you won't tell me where he is, perhaps you could pass on..."

Matthew whirled around his dark eyes blazing. "What part of "get lost" don't you understand!" he yelled. "I'm not a messenger! You want Barnabas, find him yourself, but keep me out of it. Now get out!"

Completely shocked by the teenager's rebuke, the stranger did as Matt said, his face pale, and almost believing that the younger man could be capable of killing him if he questioned him further. He left, hurriedly, wondering just what was going in this bizarre town, and, more importantly how he was going to find the elusive Barnabas Collins?

/

Darkness was finally taking a foothold, when Matthew finally stopped working. He was starting to become more and more engrossed in restoring the boat, in what he hoped would be the first of many.

He glanced at his watch, and muttering under his breath at the lateness, he put his tools away, and after quickly washing his hands, left the Cannery.

He was already late for meeting up with Ben and Megan. Thought of Megan, brought a wave of guilt at the look on her father's face when he had discovered him there. He hoped that he hadn't been too hard on her.

Too preoccupied with thoughts of Megan, he failed to notice, the slight drop in temperature, and the vague outline that appeared near to the boat, he had been working on. Or hear the sigh of his name, as the outline faded, without taking shape.

He glanced up at the night sky, silently cursing under his breath, at working so late. He quickened his pace, the flowers he'd bought earlier, clutched tightly in his hand. It wasn't much, he thought. She deserved so much more than flowers. He paused as pain stabbed through his head. He gave a small gasp, and raised his free hand to his forehead, at its suddenness.

Slowly it faded, and he could think clearly again. He continued on, now almost at a run, his fury building with each step.

As he neared the grave of his mother, he saw clearly outlined the caped figure of his father, head bowed, his cane planted firmly in front of him.

With a roar, the flowers fell to the ground, as he ran the short distance, and grabbed his father, spinning him around to face him. "How dare you come here!" he hissed, his eyes blazing with a hellfire.

"Matthew..." Barnabas tried to explain, but Matt wasn't having any of it. He grabbed the lapels of his father's Inverness, and pulled him towards him.

Barnabas flinched at the look of sheer hatred in his son's face. He and Sebastian had both believed that when Petofi had completed his revenge on Barnabas, that Matthew would remain terrified of him, after he had witnessed his mother's death. However, as Matthew had grown, the fear had faded, leaving behind an intense hatred, fuelled by the treatment he had received by some of the less sympathetic townsfolk. Leading him to change his name from Collins, to Hoffman.

"You have no right being here!" fumed his irate son.

"Matthew, please!" begged Barnabas, trying to reason with him. "I grieve for her too!"

With an inhuman roar, Matthew threw his father to the ground, and in one fluid movement had picked up the fallen cane, standing over his fallen father, with the sliver wolf's head, raised high over his head. Barnabas raised his arms; in preparation for the blows that he knew would come.

"You grieve?" he asked viciously. "You, _you_, who put her where she is!" His arm shook, as the strain of holding back, became noticeable; as twin natures warred within.

"Yes, I grieve," Barnabas, said quietly, lowering his arms, slightly. But still prepared for anything. "She was my wife."

"_She was my mother_!" he roared, raising the cane higher. Barnabas flinched and raised his arms once more, as he felt the cane come crashing down. Miraculously, the cane missed, and he felt a momentary relief, until he realised that Matthew had intended to miss him. For he had whirled away from him, with a roar of rage. For now, Sebastian's training and conditioning had saved him, but how long, before the darker side of his nature gained the upper hand?

Slowly, Barnabas rose to his feet. Wincing, slightly. Matthew's strength could still surprise him. And this wasn't the first time that it had come to blows. Nor would it be the last. Barnabas retrieved his cane, watching his son, warily. "Matthew, I…miss her as much as you do. If I could have prevented…"

Matt turned to face him again, and Barnabas took a step back. "But you didn't!" he spat, as he stepped closer to the vampire, until they were standing toe to toe. "And I'll never forgive you! You give up your right to grieve for her, the night you murdered her! You're not welcome here, and if I see you here, again, you can forget Sebastian protecting you; because I _will_ destroy you. Now go! You _repulse_ me!"

Barnabas hesitated, searching his son's face, before quickly glancing down at the grave, and bowing his head, walked painfully past his son, who stood rigidly with his back to him.

/

He returned to the Old House. Despite being partly destroyed in the fire ten years before, Barnabas found that he couldn't quite give it up, and with Sebastian's help, had at least made it safer than it had been. It would never be as it was when Julia had been alive; nothing would ever be the same.

He paused on the step, delaying going inside. Tonight, the memories were strong. He looked up into the night sky. Was she watching, he wondered? He liked to think that she was. Perhaps it had been a mistake, going to her grave, as he had. He had known that Matthew would be there. He went almost nightly. Tonight was more painful than most however, he should have remembered that. Julia's birthday. He bowed his head again, and closed his eyes, at the onslaught of memories of happier times.

He had tried to change what he had done, but the fire at Collinwood had prevented that. It had been too badly damaged, walls had collapsed in on them selves, and the roof had collapsed. There had been nothing left, and what there was, wasn't much. He had hoped that some part of the mansion could have remained intact, enough for him to try and find the I Ching wands. But they too, had been destroyed. Nothing had changed, and Julia remained dead.

He looked sadly up at the sky again. "Forgive me, Julia," he whispered, unaware that he had done so.

"Mr. Collins?"

He whirled at the unexpected sound of an unfamiliar voice. He's eyes narrowed with suspicion.

"Who are you?" he asked his tone wary; people rarely came up to the Old House.

"My name is Julian Spencer. And I believe you have information regarding my father."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Barnabas felt the familiar panic rush over him. He refused to give in. He stared at the stranger that called himself, Julian Spencer. "And what makes you so certain, that I know who your father is?" he asked, tilting his head slightly.

Julian sighed. "He's name is Dane Spencer. Look, Mr. Collins, my father visited Collinsport twenty years ago, possibly longer. He came here, looking for a friend of his; a Doctor Hoffman. Julia Hoffman. My parents were going through a bitter divorce at the time. I know that he was here; he told me."

"Then if you know that, why are you here?" Barnabas asked, coldly.

"Because I know he came back here, ten years ago, and then he just vanished."

"I'm sorry, but if he returned here, I never knew about it. I cannot help you, Mr. Spencer," said Barnabas, un-helpfully. He turned, as if to enter the Old House.

Julian reached out a hand to stop him. "Please, Mr. Collins," he said. "I know that he was here, and that you did meet him."

Barnabas stared at him, eyes narrowed. "And how could you possibly know that?"

"Because I received a letter from he's employer, Lord Ravensbrook, telling me, that he'd discharged my father from his service, because of a dispute. And your named was mentioned."

/

"Look, Matt, I'm sorry, about this afternoon, I should have remembered," Ben began to apologise, but the other boy cut of him.

"It's ok, Ben. It was something I had to do on my own. Just was well really. I found Barnabas there."

"Your father?" questioned Megan, her eyes widening. "What happened?"

Matthew scowled, but didn't argue the point with her. "If you don't mind, I don't want to talk about Barnabas," he said rising to his feet. "There are better things to talk about, than him." He stared out the window, as Ben and Megan shared a look. They knew Matt well enough not to push him, when he got like this. Something, it seemed that Barnabas still had to learn.

What had he been thinking of, going to the grave? He must have known that Matthew would be going?

The door opened, and Sebastian walked in. He stared at the three teenagers for a moment. He could feel the sudden tension, as soon as he stepped into the room.

"Something tells me, that I've interrupted something," he said, getting straight to the point. He eyed Matthew, still standing by the window. "You've finished your patrol early," he observed.

Matthew tensed visibly. He turned slowly to face his guardian and Watcher. "I haven't been, Sebastian, and you know why."

Sebastian turned to Ben and Megan. "I'd like to talk to Matthew, alone."

As they rose, from the sofa, Matthew took a few steps towards the Watcher, making them both pause. "They know, Sebastian, and I don't want another lecture, from you. They're my friends; if they leave, I leave with them."

"Then, maybe they can talk some sense into you," countered West. "You must always be on your guard."

"For what!" he shouted, stepping closer still to the Englishman. "There's nothing in this damn town to guard against! If there was a whole army of vampires, I could understand it, but there isn't! Barnabas is the only one for miles around! And he's too much of a coward..."

"Your father, isn't a coward, Matthew!" said Sebastian, his voice almost too low to hear. A sign that he was truly angry.

"He stopped being my father, the night he murdered my mother!" fumed Matthew standing toe to toe with the older man, the rage he had felt when he'd seen Barnabas at the grave, returned. His dark eyes blazed, and Sebastian felt himself being drawn into their dark depths. Reluctantly, he looked away, and Matthew smirked, reading the gesture wrongly.

Sebastian admonished himself silently, knowing that Matthew would take it as a sign of backing down. He was getting harder to control. If the Watcher's Council were to hear of the difficulties that he was beginning to have with Matthew, he feared what they would do, despite them allowing him to be his legal guardian, at Barnabas' request.

Since Matthew had also wanted to remain with the Watcher, it had been easy to arrange. In the long term, they had believed it would have been advantageous, for both Matthew and Barnabas. Sebastian could more easily train Matthew, and at the same time, try and help Matthew understand what he had witnessed.

Barnabas, and certainly not the Council, hadn't anticipated the depths of Matthew's hatred of his father. They had known it would be hard, with Petofi as the cause, they hadn't expected anything else. Sebastian knew that Barnabas was close to admitting defeat, at a seemingly impossible situation. Losing Julia had been hard, but Matthew's nightly rejection only made it harder. Barnabas could never moved forward, and as a consequence, neither could Matthew.

Despite the passage of ten years, they were forever trapped in that fateful night.

"If I had my way, I'd have driven a stake through his heart, years ago, after what he's done. But for some, noble trumped up reason, I can't. He made his choice that night, and I've made mine. Give it up, Sebastian. _Give it up!"_

As he finished speaking pain flashed through his head. He clutched at his forehead; at the same time he stumbled slightly. Ben and Sebastian moved to help him, but he waved them off. As he's head cleared momentarily.

"Barnabas!" he said bitterly, at the same time as a frantic knocking came to the door, which then flew open to reveal the man in question.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N** As always many many thanks for the reviews!

Chapter 5

Sebastian stared at Barnabas, both startled and concerned by his sudden appreance. "Barnabas, what is it?" he asked, going over to his friend.

Barnabas glanced quickly at Ben and Megan, before looking back at Sebastian. Including Matthew in his glance, he said, "I need to speak to you and Matthew...alone."

The two teenagers didn't need asking twice. Murmuring excuses they made their way to the door, hurrying past Barnabas as though they expected him to pounce on them at any second.

He looked down at the floor, as they left, knowing that he wasn't a welcome visitor to the cottage, by some of its residents, at least.

Matthew made to follow after them, keeping his promise that if his friends left, then so would he. He pointedly ignored Barnabas, as he grabbed his jacket up from the back of a chair, where he had left it. "I don't know when I'll be back, Sebastian," he said, as he made to leave.

Barnabas stepped in front of him, warily. Knowing full well that he was on dangerous ground, by barring his son's way. "I said that I needed to talk to you and Sebastian," he said quietly, watching his son very carefully.

Matthew refused to look at him. "I told you, Sebastian, that if my friends left, then I would go with them," he said, as though he hadn't heard a word of what Barnabas had said. As he finished speaking, he finally faced his father, his face set, his dark penetrating eyes, seeming to look straight through Barnabas.

He didn't speak; he didn't move. It almost seemed as though he were waiting to see what the vampire, would do. His eyes narrowed. Barnabas refused to move.

"What did you want to talk about, Barnabas?" asked Sebastian, also watching Matthew carefully. He knew how volatile he was becoming, and so, did Barnabas.

"There's a stranger in town, a Julian Spencer," explained Barnabas, never moving from the door. "He found me at the Old House, asking questions, about his father. He knows about me, Sebastian!" he said desperately.

"Are you certain, Barnabas?" questioned West, at once on the alert.

"Positive." Barnabas looked at his son, pointedly. "He mentioned having questioned Matthew about me, this afternoon. Apparently, he's already been informed of…"

Matthew stiffened, at the mention of his name. He glared at the vampire. "Get out of my way," he said slowly, stressing each word.

"What did you tell him about me, Matthew?" Barnabas asked, still barring the way.

Matthew ignored the question, and tried to push past Barnabas. He grabbed his arm, intending to stop his son. "Matthew, I asked you a question."

Matthew shrugged off his father's hand. "Don't you _ever_ touch me!" he said through gritted teeth. "I have nothing to say to you. You deserve everything you get."

"Matthew, that's enough," said Sebastian. "If you won't tell him, then tell me. Why didn't you tell me, that a stranger had been asking questions about your father?"

"Do you have an hearing problem?" asked Matthew, nastily. "I have nothing to say!" He turned pointedly at Barnabas. "And stay out of my room!"

Barnabas looked genuinely puzzled. "I haven't been in your room."

"I saw you, last night! You were standing in the corner, watching me! I don't like being spied on!"

"Matthew, I promise you, I was not in your room, last night!" Barnabas insisted.

"There was a storm last night, and when the lightening flashed, I saw you! You were in my room!" He moved closer to the vampire, ignoring the pain in his head, the close proximity gave him. He jabbed his father cruelly in his chest. "How many times do I have say it, Barnabas? You're not welcome here! Leave me alone!"

He brushed past his father, rudely, slamming the door behind him.

Barnabas looked as if he wished the floor would open up and swallow him, as he looked down at his shoes. Sebastian could see the hurt on his face, although he did his best to hide it.

"Barnabas..." He began, but stopped, not knowing what else to say.

Barnabas shook his head, glancing towards the door. "Petofi knew what he was doing when he caused this," he said quietly. "Losing Julia wasn't

enough..." He stopped, and closed his eyes, grief crumpling his features.

"Barnabas, we must deal with Julian. Where is he?"

"I left him at the Old House. I...had…"

Sebastian looked at his sharply. "What did you do Barnabas?" he asked, both knowing what he had meant.

Barnabas looked guilty, as he said, "Nothing."

"Barnabas, I hope you haven't done anything stupid!" said Sebastian in a tone that Barnabas knew well, from happier days.

"I subdued him, but I didn't harm that way, Sebastian. I promise you."

"Then we'd better hurry. We'd better find Matthew too. We may need him."

/

The three of them entered the partially ruined Old House, carefully. There was a dampness about the place that buried deep into the body. Sebastian shivered, although Barnabas and Matthew seemed not to notice. Matthew hadn't been to the Old House, very often over the intervening years. It wasn't a place that he very much cared for. Since it had been the place where he had bore witness to his mother's death, he avoided the place as much as he could.

He stared resentfully at the two men that had brought him here. "Alright, where is he, Barnabas?" he sneered, looking around the almost barren room.

"I left him in here," replied Barnabas, heading towards the bookcase, and the secret room behind it.

As Barnabas pulled the bookcase back, Sebastian and Matt drew closer, ready to deal with Spencer should he prove difficult. "Why didn't you just make him forget?" Matt asked. "You're quite capable of doing that."

Barnabas looked uneasy. "He had a cross, I was powerless, and so I vanished, and subdued him from behind."

They entered the secret room, and found Julian Spencer stretched out in the middle of the floor. They needn't have worried about him, making any trouble, for he seemed unconscious.

"How did you subdue him, Barnabas?" asked Sebastian, frowning down at the prone form. "He's out cold."

Matthew's sharp eyesight noticed before the other two and he whirled on his father, grabbing him by the lapels of his coat, and propelling him backwards, until the wall stopped him.

"Matthew!" admonished his Watcher.

"He didn't subdue him, Sebastian!" fumed Matt, his anger, suddenly frightening Sebastian.

Barnabas struggled futilely to free himself from his son's painful grip. He stopped abruptly at his son's next words. "He attacked him! There are two puncture wounds on his throat! You just couldn't leave it, could you!" he raged, repeatedly hitting Barnabas back against the wall.

Sebastian inched closer to the prone form, his eyes only now seeing what Matthew had seen. Blood still oozed slowly from the fang marks on the pale flesh.

He turned accusingly to Barnabas, who was still struggling, with his son. "He's right, Barnabas, the marks are there."

Barnabas looked horrified. "Matthew, please!" he begged him, as he's shoulders and back connected once more with the hard wall. "I didn't do it! I didn't attack him!"

Matthew stopped in mid push. His dark eyes blazed, as he swung around and sent his father stumbling across the room. He drove his father to his knees as he pushed down on his shoulders so that he's father was inches away from the prone figure. "The evidence is right there!"

Barnabas looked at Sebastian, then back at Matthew. "I promise you, it wasn't me!" he insisted, desperately. "You must believe me! I did not do this!" He looked imploring at his two companions, willing them to believe him.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Matthew dragged his father to his feet, roughly. "No one else could have done it!"

Barnabas seemed to sag against his son, with an air of defeat. "I did not," he still insisted. He turned to Sebastian, in a last attempt to convince them that he hadn't been responsible for the attack on Julian Spencer. He looked to Sebastian, for support. "Why would I do this?" he asked simply.

He knew he was innocent, and even if Matthew didn't believe him, he knew that Sebastian should. But even he remained doubtful.

"Because of what you are!" demanded, Matt, when Sebastian remained silent.

Then as if it had just occurred to him, and never taking his eyes off his father, he asked, "Is he still alive?"

Barnabas' eyes closed, as he silently prayed that he was, as Sebastian, checked. Barnabas sighed with relief, when Sebastian said, "He's alive!"

Matthew pulled him up sharply. He's eyes still blazing, and unrelenting, despite the news. "You can count yourself fortunate that he's still alive, and you'd better hope that he stays that way."

"I more than hope," said Barnabas, in a wretched voice. "I wish he had never come here."

"Well he did! And his blood will be on your hands, if he dies. You make me sick!" he said a disgusted tone. He turned to Sebastian, "Let me destroy him, Sebastian," he said, in an almost begging tone. "It's what he deserves, and it'll stop something like this happening _ever_ again."

Sebastian rose to his feet. "No. Spencer is still alive, and it is up to us, to make sure that he stays that way. I want you to go back to the village and call Nick Andrews."

"What good will calling Uncle Nick do?" Matt wanted to know. "He's the cause of the problem! Get rid of him, and it'll be all over!" He said giving his father, a shake.

Something inside Barnabas snapped. He uttered a low menacing snarl, revealing his fangs.

Matthew stood his ground, unfazed. His eyes gleamed with triumph. "Go on, just try it," he goaded.

"Matthew," said Sebastian, sharply. "Enough of this! If we delay much longer he _will_ die! Now go and call Nick!"

Slayer and vampire stared at each other, for several seconds, before Matthew reluctantly, let go of his father, and left the room.

When he had gone, Barnabas turned away from Sebastian, his fist clenching and unclenching. The urge to attack Matthew hadn't been easy to overcome. A survival instinct too deep to ignore.

"Barnabas," said Sebastian quietly. "I'm sorry."

He remained standing with his back to Sebastian, head bowed. "You used to trust me more."

"You can see how it looks, Barnabas," continued Sebastian. "Besides, the injections I've been giving you have been known to fail before now."

Barnabas slowly turned to face the Englishman. Sebastian noted how weary looking he looked, if it were possible for a vampire to look weary. "They haven't this time," he assured him. "Just as I didn't do that," he said pointing to the figure on the floor.

"Alright, Barnabas," said Sebastian, finally, after several minutes of silent thinking. "I believe you. But if it wasn't you, who was it?"

"Can't you guess?" he asked, pointedly. "Who was it that brought him here in the first place?"

"Dane?" asked Sebastian, in surprise. "Is that possible?"

"You told me yourself, that Dane was found in the woods, dead. With wounds on his throat. Yet Julia and you, both knew that I hadn't touched him. We only assumed that the villagers disposed of the body. But what if Petofi returned for it? We know he was still around, because of what he did to Matthew."

Sebastian paced, deep in thought. Finally he stopped in front of Barnabas. "It could be possible. But if Dane is back, Petofi can't be with him, or we'd know about it. It is possible that he could be acting alone."

"But why?"

"To throw suspicion on you. And it's working, isn't it?" Sebastian sighed. "Be careful, Barnabas. Matthew is on the warpath. You've seen how he is. There's a rage building inside of him. And if he doesn't find a release soon, I don't know what will happen. Will you be safe, where you've hidden your coffin?"

"Yes, it's in a safe place. I doubt Matthew is even aware it exists."

"Don't be too certain, Barnabas," Sebastian warned. "With his training and his dhampir senses, it'd be only too easy to find you, if he wanted to. And in his present frame of mind, he just might do it."

Barnabas stiffened slightly. He's eyes darting quickly around the room.

"What is it, Barnabas?"

"I must go, it'll be dawn soon."

"Very well, I'll be quick. I'll give you an update on Julian at dusk. I'll try and talk to Matt again, about what's happening. Just one more thing; were you in his room, last night?"

"No," said Barnabas, shaking his head firmly.

Sebastian nodded. "Very well, come to the cottage, tonight. Until then, be careful."

/

Sebastian, breathlessly fell to the floor in a crumpled heap. Matthew laughed; a pleasant sound but rarely heard. He hadn't even broken out into a sweat.

"You're getting old, Sebastian," Matthew joked, as he towelled himself off.

The training session had ended and Sebastian was grateful. "You'll be old one day, my young friend," puffed the older man, " so less of the old."

"If you say so," smirked Matt, before taking a sip of water.

"I really don't know where you get your energy from," muttered Sebastian, earning another chuckle from Matt.

"I'm heading for a shower, and then meeting Ben and Megan. When did Uncle Nick say that he'd be back?"

"Sometime this evening," stated West, towelling off himself.

"I'll be here," promised the teenager. "It's been a while since he visited. It'll be good to see him again."

"So, what happened?" asked Ben, shocked by what his friend had told them.

"Sebastian made me call my Uncle. Whatever he and Barnabas talked about, he didn't tell me. But you can bet that by this afternoon, everyone will know about it. And if he dies..."

/

"What will you do?" asked Megan. She had been watching him carefully. He turned to her now, and she caught her breath, as she felt herself, becoming lost in his penetrating gaze. Confused, she barely managed to turn away.

"Nothing I can do, unless he doesn't make it. Then I'll have to do the only thing I can. Of course, If Sebastian would let me destroy Barnabas, then there wouldn't be a problem."

"But, suppose you did destroy, Barnabas," said Ben, "and this Julian guy died anyway, what then?"

"Two birds for the price of one, Ben," said Matt, and flashed a grin, that Ben wasn't sure he liked or cared for.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Dusk was just beginning to fall, when there came a knock, on the cottage door. Sebastian glanced quickly at the darkening sky, and realised that it was too early for Barnabas. Realising that the caller would be Nicholas Andrews, he quickly went to answer the door. His concern over Julian Spencer had grown steadily during the day. He had resisted the urge to call Wyndcliffe, knowing how busy Nick would be, and also allowing him to administer to the injured man.

He opened the door, to be greeted by Nick's son, Jay.

Sebastian tried to hide his disappointment, but it seemed he hadn't done a good job. He tried to make the best of the situation. "I'm sorry, Jay, I thought it might be your father. Please, come in," he said opening the door wider. "Matt isn't here, he's out with some friends. He was looking forward to seeing your father."

"We met Matt, as we came down, my father's talking to him now. Did Uncle Barnabas, really do what Matt and my father say he's done?"

"Barnabas says he didn't, and I'm starting to believe him," admitted Sebastian. "There are some things that Matt isn't aware of, and neither is your father. Do you both plan to stay long?"

"I doubt it, my father, will be anxious to get back, both for Mr. Spencer, and my mother's health isn't what it should be."

"I'm sorry to hear that she hasn't improved," said Sebastian, sympathetically. "Of course, Nick will want to get back."

As he finished speaking the door opened, as Nick and Matthew entered the cottage. The change in Matthew with the arrival of his uncle and cousin was a welcome one, and Sebastian found himself, relaxing for the first time in days. Perhaps, his cousin especially would have a calming affect on him.

Nick crossed the room to Sebastian, a smile of greeting on his face.

"Sebastian, it's good to see you," he said shaking his hand.

"Likewise," smiled West. "It's been a long time."

"Yes," said Nick, a sober light entering his eyes. "With running the hospital and the Carolyn's health not being what it should," he trailed off, and glanced at Matt. "Maybe we could arrange for you to come to Clearwater, Matt. Carolyn would be pleased, I'm sure. And Jessica would be more than delighted."

"I'd like that," agreed Matt. "I've missed everyone. And if I could help Aunt Carolyn..." He looked down at the floor, suddenly feeling awkward.

Nick seemed to understand, for he crossed over to his nephew, and clasped him on the shoulder, making him look up. "You'll be very welcome, Matt. And don't let anyone tell you otherwise, alright?"

"Thanks, Uncle Nick," he said seriously.

"How is Julian, progressing?" Sebastian asked when the greetings were over with, getting straight down to business.

"Not well," said Nick darkly. "He's already had two blood transfusions. He may need a third. I'm not sure that the outcome will be what we want. Have you talked to Barnabas, about this?"

"I asked him to call when he could," said Sebastian tactfully. "I told him that you would be here."

"Is that wise, knowing how the townspeople feel about him?"

"He said he didn't do it, and I'm starting to believe him."

"Of course he did, Sebastian!" said Nick starting to get angry. "He's the only one that could do something like this!"

"It's quite possible that someone else, is responsible, knowing that Barnabas will be blamed."

"I suppose he told you that?" sneered Matt, joining in the conversation.

"Well, if he's coming here, don't expect me to stay. Jay, do you want to come?" he asked his cousin.

"Sure, I'd like to talk to you anyway," said the younger boy, moving over to his cousin.

"Actually, Matthew is right," said West, when the two teenagers had left the cottage. "But he doesn't know all of the details, like we do. There is the strong possibility that there's another vampire involved."

"Alright," said Nick, still not believing in Barnabas' possible innocence. "If there's another vampire involved, where is he?"

"I don't know," said Sebastian looking down at the carpet. "Matthew isn't aware of this other vampire, yet. All he can sense is his father's presence. Barnabas believes that it could be Dane, Julian's father."

Nick whirled to face him, "Dane Spencer! Another one, Barnabas, _claimed_ he didn't harm," he sneered.

"Which I know is true," defended Sebastian. "Barnabas believes, as I do, that Petofi returned to collect the body. We only suspect that the towns people removed the body, when they destroyed the Collins Estate."

The discussion ended for a moment, as a knock on the door interrupted them.

"That will be Barnabas," said Sebastian, for Nick's benefit.

"Is there any news?" asked Barnabas, entering the cottage quickly, not noticing Nick at first.

"Why don't you ask me, Barnabas?" he asked, surprising him, momentarily.

Awkwardness sprang between them, as Barnabas' eyes narrowed a fraction, before he slowly crossed the room. "Nick," he said politely.

"Barnabas," he replied, coolly.

"How is Spencer?" he asked again, concern heavy in his tone.

"He's alive...for now," stated Nick, pointedly. "I'm doing everything that I can to keep him that way."

Barnabas refused to rise to the bait. "I appreciate what you're trying…"

"Let's get one thing straight, Barnabas," said Nick, cutting him off. "I don't care for your appreciation. I'm doing all of this, for Matthew…and Julia. Not you."

"I see," said Barnabas quietly, looking down at the floor. "I'm sorry you still feel that way. I remember a time when we were friends."

"That was then, Barnabas. Neither of us can change it now. I only have to look at Carolyn and Matt, to know that."

Barnabas looked intently at Nick at the mention of Carolyn. "I heard that she hadn't been well, I hope it isn't anything serious?"

"I find your concern, unwelcome and inappropriate. She hasn't been same the since her mother died."

"Carolyn doesn't blame me for Elizabeth's death."

"No, she doesn't," admitted Nick.

"…but you do," Barnabas finished. "She isn't the only one to lose someone."

Nick stared directly at the vampire, his face remaining impassive at Barnabas' veiled indication of his own loss. "I hope, for Matt's sake, that this man lives, Barnabas. It'll be Matt that will suffer the consequences, if he doesn't."

"And what about Julian himself, Nick?" questioned Barnabas, his anger beginning to surface. "I _know_ what he will go through, night after night."

"Sebastian believes in your innocence, I don't. Dane's _convenient_ resurrection doesn't hold with me."

"You knew what happened, when he kidnapped Julia," Barnabas reminded him. "You also know that it is quite possible that Dane is the vampire. He's body was never found, Nick."

"Precisely. A convenient scapegoat, I'm sure. We have nothing more to say to each other. Your guilt lies in a bed at Wyndcliffe."

/

Three days later, Matthew stared out of the Coffee shop window, as Ben and Megan quarrelled. Although there was no reason to, he felt partly responsible. If it hadn't been for him, Megan wouldn't have found herself staying at her Aunt Bea's house. Bea Phillips was her father's maiden older sister, and she had been furious at her younger brother's treatment of both Megan and Matt.

Bea had always had a fondness for her niece, and had only been too willing to help her, when she'd found herself homeless. She'd become a favourite of Matt's over the years, which had lead to bitterness in the Philips family, as the divide between the two sides, widened.

He sighed, and turned briefly back to the quarrelling pair. He's eyes focused on Megan, as she shook her head vehemently, at whatever Ben had said. He concentrated on tuning out their conversation, which he could hear, even though they sat at a different table. He was beginning to wish he had gone back with Nick and Jay.

It had been too long since they had visited...and it had shown between he and his cousin. They weren't as close they had been when they were children.

He rose to feet, deciding to leave his two friends to their spat, when Sebastian appeared at his elbow, extremely agitated. "Sebastian." he began, a chill creeping down his spine.

"Nick just called, Julian Spencer died, fifteen minutes ago."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Matt sat back down, hard, as the strength went out of his legs at the news.

He closed his eyes, tightly. "Oh, no!" he groaned. "No!" he hissed, hitting the table.

Sebastian sat down in the booth with him. "We have to act quickly, Matt," he said, keeping his voice low. "Julian must not be allowed to rise as a vampire."

Matthew sighed, and shook his head. "No, there's been enough killing and bloodshed. This is Barnabas' fault!" he said, angrily. "I warned him this would happen!"

"Matthew, listen to me," Sebastian insisted in hushed tones. "Your father might not be to blame for this. I've told you that we suspect that there could be another vampire involved."

"Yeah, you've said it a thousand times, Sebastian!" hissed Matt, equally low. "Just who is this Dane Spencer anyway? Besides, being Julian's father?"

"Don't you remember him? He was here ten years ago."

Matt shook his head. "If I ever met him, I don't remember him. Why?"

"You were eight at the time. He was a friend of your mother's. In fact, they were engaged when they were younger."

"Really?" asked Matt, with interest. He always enjoyed hearing about his mother. "What happened?"

"When she decided to pursue a medical career, the engagement ended. They lost contact. Then around the time, you mother and father were married; they caught up with each other again. Dane and your father didn't quite hit it off, and there was a time when it was thought that Julia might marry Dane. Of course, she married your father, instead."

"She should have married Dane," said Matt, wistfully. "Then maybe they'd both be still alive."

"She was lucky she didn't. He came back here, ten years later, a changed man. He couldn't accept that Julia loved your father, and so he kidnapped her. She was missing for almost five days. That would have been around the time, I was giving you karate lessons."

Matthew sat in silence for several minutes, his eyes, narrowed as he tried to think back. Then, suddenly, "Yeah, I remember now! I was with my mother, and he frightened her. She wouldn't admit, but he had. I didn't like him, and he bought Ben and I a milkshake." He turned to his Watcher. "Why did he kidnap her?"

"He blamed your father, for his business failing. When he'd first arrived in Collinsport, he'd been going through a bitter divorce, and he'd been trying to get custody of Julian. When your mother turned down his offer of marriage, he went back to Philadelphia. Shortly after, he lost his custody battle, for his son, and then he lost business. I've managed to find out, however, that it was due to his shady dealings that eventually lost him his business. He wanted to get back at your father, and he used, your mother, rather cruelly, I might add, to do it. When the truth was discovered about your father, Dane's body was found in the woods near the Old House. There were puncture wounds on his throat, but your father hadn't anything to do with it. Your Uncle Roger had him held at gunpoint in the basement of the Old House. When we went back to the Estate after the fire, the body had vanished. We just assumed that the villagers had taken it."

"That was the night, my mother died," stated Matt, quietly, still remembering.

Sebastian decided to try again, in convincing the teenager, to forgive his father. "He wasn't responsible for Dane, so couldn't it be possible that he's also blameless for Julian?"

Matthew's face became set. "Maybe," he said, reluctantly. "But he's still responsible for my mother."

"I'm not denying that," said Sebastian, "but if you'd just talk to your father…"

"As far as I'm concerned, my father died the night my mother died. I won't forgive him, Sebastian. Not ever, so stop trying!" He rose angrily to his feet, and Sebastian got up with him.

"Just talk to him," the Englishman insisted. "What harm is there in that?"

"I want nothing to do with him, Sebastian!" he said resolutely. "Just accept it!"

He headed towards the door, and sighing, Sebastian hurried after him. He caught up with him, as he reached the Cannery. "Matthew, there's still Julian to consider. And you must find the vampire responsible, before there's another attack."

"And what if the vampire responsible turns out to be Barnabas, after all, Sebastian?" the teenager wanted to know. "Will you let me destroy him?"

Seeing the look on his guardian's face he give a disgusted snort. "I thought not. Why, Sebastian? Why does poor, _blameless_ Julian Spencer have to be destroyed and Barnabas is allowed to roam free?"

"Because the Watcher's Council, wish it, that's all you need to know. I just follow my orders. Julian will be destroyed, and Barnabas, will stay unharmed, Matthew. That's all there is to it."

"Unfair, is what I call it," Matt argued.

"Come, Nick is waiting for us. After we get back, you've a vampire to hunt down."'

(_You're right about that, Sebastian_), Matt thought to himself, as he followed Sebastian to the car. (_There is a vampire to hunt down, and he lives in the Old House_.)

/

Matthew stared down at the prone form of Julian Spencer. The pain that filled his head, when he was around his father had let him know that he was indeed a vampire.

This was his first slaying; all his training had been leading to this moment. He moved Julian's head, exposing the throat. The puncture wounds had gone.

For a moment he felt pity for this man he had never known; who had come looking for answers on his missing father. Then, his dhampir nature surfacing, he placed a wooden stake over the vampire's heart. He raised the mallet, hesitated a moment, and then brought it crashing down.

His blood roared through his veins, and his heart gave an unexpected leap, as the vampire screamed his final agony as the stake pierced its heart.

Matthew brought the mallet down again, and again, feeling a perverse sense of morbid delight, as the vampire screamed again and again, then with a sigh, it feel silent, blood trickling from the corner of its mouth. He brought the mallet down a fourth time, this time shattering the head, with the force of the blow.

He dropped the wrecked mallet, a grin forming on his face. He'd never felt such a rush; so _alive_. He hadn't even thought what it'd be like, when he was called to duty. He never thought it'd give him so much pleasure. He stared at the body, and suddenly burst out laughing, his dark, penetrating eyes, sparkled, ruthlessly. For now his dhampir instincts had full sway, influencing, and intensifying his feelings and emotions.

He'd had his first taste slaying…and he felt, _great_.

/

Barnabas sank into a lone chair by the empty fire, at the news. Matthew watched him, his eyes glittering. He hadn't wanted to come here, but, due to Sebastian's tenacity, he found himself, once more, within its decayed walls.

At least he'd had the pleasure of telling Barnabas, the news of Julian's death.

Bad news had travelled fast; by the time he and Sebastian had returned from Wyndcliffe, the news of Julian's death was well known. Ben and Megan had been waiting at the cottage for their return, receiving looks of contempt of their own, along with nudges, and whispering. Matthew had been the brunt of such treatment, for years, as had they, but never as bad, as now.

"I had hoped, that he may live," Barnabas' voice broke into his thoughts. "How sorry I feel."

"Its too late for being sorry, Barnabas," replied his son, unsympathetically. "You know that it was inevitable, after what you did."

Barnabas sighed, and closed his eyes. "Your mother would have believed me," he said quietly.

"Leave my mother out of this!" hissed Matt, taking a step closer to his father, not understanding what he had said. "If she was still alive, none of this would be happening!"

Barnabas rose to his feet, and faced his son, with head held high. "I wish that she were, so that she could talk some sense into that fool head of yours!" said Barnabas, angrily. He didn't care if he angered his son. He was growing tired of being blamed for Julian, and the constant reminder of what he had done.

"Say one more word against her, and I swear, I'll force you to face the rising sun!" threatened Matthew, his dark eyes, beginning to burn. "If it hadn't been for you, she still would be!"

"I tried to prevent it, Matthew!" he insisted. "I told her to leave, but she wouldn't leave me!"

"Don't turn this around and make it her fault!" snapped Matt, enraged.

"I'm not placing blame, Matthew, I'm trying to explain!"

"I don't want your explanations! I _saw_ you!"

Barnabas turned away from him, head bowed. He stared down into the empty fire. "I regret that night, more than you could possibly realise. If, my destruction could bring her back, I'd do it in a heartbeat. The last thing I ever wanted was to hurt her, Matthew." He turned to face his son, his expression showing his grief and pain. "I loved her, Matthew. If you believe all the terrible things about me, then, you must believe that."

"If you loved her as much as you say you did, then you wouldn't have done what you did," Matthew said, stubbornly.

"How can I convince you?" fretted Barnabas, wringing his hands.

"You can't," said Matthew, with finality. "This is pointless, Barnabas," he said, turning towards the door.

"Matthew, wait," said Barnabas going after him. "I said, wait," he repeated again, as Matthew continued without looking back.

Barnabas grabbed his son's arm, finally getting his attention. Matthew looked at him furiously and then down at the hand that restrained him. He looked up at his father again, making it clear that he should release him.

"_Let...go…of…me_!" Matthew intoned, through gritted teeth.

"Not until you listen to me, Matthew," Barnabas stated. "Though you deny it, I am still your father, and I..."

Still on a high, Matthew moved quickly. In the blink of an eye, he broke free of his father's grip. He held his father's wrist in a vice grip, making the vampire wince.

"You are _not my father_!" he hissed. "My father died, the night my mother did!"

He glanced towards the window, and was shocked to see the dawn approaching.

Had he really been here all night?

Barnabas stiffened as he too sensed the approaching dawn. He looked desperately at Matthew who still held him by the wrist. "Matthew, the dawn! You must let me go!"

A strange look crossed his son's face, and Barnabas felt the first stirrings of real fear.

"Yes, it is almost dawn, isn't it?" he asked, a gleam Barnabas, didn't much like or care for, in his eyes.

Quickly, Matthew dragged him over to the bay window.

"What are you doing?" cried Barnabas, fearfully, as Matthew, still holding tightly to his right wrist, held it out. "Matthew, please!" he begged, as it suddenly became clear what he intended to do.

"This is why, you're not my father!" he said, holding the wrist more firmly. "Struggle, and I'll break it," he warned. "Vanish, and I'll hunt you down, and drag you out into the sun, myself!"

Barnabas swallowed, and stopped struggling, unable to believe that Matthew would really do this. The grip tightened, and Barnabas felt the bones move slightly.

"Matthew, don't..." he begged, fearfully, he's eyes, moving in turn from his son to the window, and back again. "_Please_...don't do this!"


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Matthew's grip tightened on Barnabas' wrist. He looked at his father, with something akin to joy. Barnabas realised with absolute horror, that he's son was _enjoying_ this. He was actually getting some deranged pleasure out of it.

For a moment, he'd entertained the notion that he's son was simply trying to frighten him, and that he was only bluffing. If he'd wanted to frighten him, he had succeeded, he _was_ frightened; badly.

Horror and fear on his face, he asked, in terrified disbelieve, "Matthew, surely you don't really want to do this?"

Matthew ignored him, instead he pulled his father's arm slightly, forcing Barnabas to take a step closer, but still remain enough in shadow, with only his arm, and hand showing in what would soon be in the path of the first rays of the rising sun.

"Please, Matthew!" he begged fearfully. "Please, do not do this!"

He began to struggle; the need to survive despite his detestable existence was strong. Matthew's grip became tighter. "I told you'd I'd break it," he said, coldly. "You know that I can."

"Matthew, let me go, _please_!" he begged, as the sun finally began to rise. "You don't have to do this! Matthew!"

Matthew remained deaf to his father's pleas of release, as he watched the sun begin to rise.

"_No_!" wailed Barnabas, as he felt the first rays touch his skin. "_No_!

Matthew's face became set, with fascination. A sneer Barnabas never thought he'd see on his son's face, shocked him to the core. That he's son would even consider doing what he now was utterly terrified him.

Barnabas cried out, as pain flashed from his hand and arm, travelling up to his shoulder. He tried to pull away, but Matthew held him firmly.

"Matthew!" he hissed his fangs exposed, in his grimace of pain and agony.

His face contorted, as the pain intensified. He could feel his hand, beginning to burn. Resistance was futile, as Matthew held him prisoner. He thought of vanishing, as he had countless times before, when faced with danger or an enemy, but Matthew's threat of hunting him down, and dragging him bodily into the sun, stopped him. He quite believed that he would carry out his threat. Fear kept him rooted to the spot.

Smoke began to raise form his exposed hand and arm, and Barnabas screamed in agony. "Matthew, please stop!" he wailed, his face paler than ever before, contorted with his agony.

His hand burst into flames, as the sun fell fully on it, and Barnabas sank to his knees with a moan.

With a flourish, Matthew released him, and Barnabas scuttled back into the shadows, cradling his hand, whimpering. He'd never felt such immense agony.

"Go on, crawl back to the darkness, like the worm you are!" hissed Matthew bending down, his face inches away from his father's face. "If I _ever_ see you again…"

Barnabas heard no more. He vanished from his son's sight, before he could change his mind.

/

Matthew walked out into the sun; the feeling of pleasure, or the rush, he had expected, wasn't there. A wave of nausea washed over him, and he just had time to double over, as he vomited close to a clump of trees.

Still feeling ill, he wiped absently at his mouth when the wave had passed.

He suddenly felt very tired, as though he hadn't any sleep or rest for days. A slight breeze sprang up as he headed towards the path that would lead to the village, and for just a moment, he smelt something, he thought he recognised. He paused, frowning, as he sniffed at the air, experimentally. The scent came again, but was gone before he could be certain if it had ever been there. Thinking it was his imagination, he continued on his trek back to the village.

/

As Barnabas slumbered in his coffin, once more safely hidden from the daylight, a form tried to take shape beside his coffin, the scent Matthew had thought he'd imagined, was stronger here.

The vague form touched the closed lid of the coffin, almost fervidly. Slowly the coffin lid rose, with invisible hands, revealing the sleeping occupant. The form tried once more to make itself known, but couldn't quite do so. With a soft sight, it reached out, to gently touch a pallid cheek. A sobbing sound echoed around the hidden room, at the sight of the raw hand, before the lid slowly closed and the ghostly form faded. The sobbing echoed moments after the shape had gone, and then, that too, stopped.

/

When he reached the cottage, Sebastian was already up, having his breakfast. He watched the younger boy, carefully. He frowned. "Matthew, are you alright? You don't look well at all."

"I'm just tired," he said truthfully, sitting down heavily at the table, and covering his face with his hands.

Sebastian continued to watch him closely. "Well, its obvious you haven't been for your morning run," he said, trying to draw him into a conversation.

"I haven't. In fact, all I want to do, is crawl into bed, and sleep until next year."

"Had any luck with finding Dane?"

"No," sad Matt, slowly rising to his feet. "I'm too tired for this, Sebastian," he said, heading out of the kitchen.

Sebastian continued to watch him as he left, the frown deepening. Something had happened to him, but what? Could it be possible that he was finally beginning to listen to his father's innocence? Still, the fatigue he felt was worrying. He rose from the table, his breakfast things in hand. After clearing away, he made a fresh cup of coffee, and then headed into the living room, and after searching through a number of volumes, began to read.

/

Later in the afternoon, Matthew returned to the Cannery, and began working restoring the boat. He'd just finished giving it the first coat of paint when he sensed that he wasn't alone. He paused in his work, and turned to find Ben, watching him.

"Thought I might find you here," he said, squatting down to see what his friend had been doing. "How is it going?"

"Slowly," said Matt, with a sigh. He put the brush down and glanced around. "Where's Megan?" he asked, curiously.

"Right now the far away from me, the better," stated Ben, in a tone that indicated he didn't really want to talk about it.

"Oh," said Matt, quietly, turning back to the boat, so his friend couldn't see his expression. "You two still fighting, huh?"

"I didn't come here, to talk about Megan," said Ben, bluntly. "How about coming down to Logansport with me? Just to get out of town for a while? You look like you could do with a change of scenery, too."

Matt hesitated, and then turned to his friend. "Alright, there's nothing much I can do anyway, until this dries."

/

Sebastian looked up from his writing at the quite knock on the door. He glanced at his watch, and frowned at the lateness.

He opened the door, and was surprised to find Barnabas in the doorway.

"Barnabas, please come in," he invited.

Barnabas entered the cottage slowly, his eyes moving restlessly around the cottage.

"I was beginning to think that perhaps you wouldn't be coming tonight," went on Sebastian, not noticing Barnabas' uneasiness. "You're rather late for your injection," he added, closing the door, turning to face his guest.

He frowned. "Barnabas, are you all right?" he asked, a hint of worry in his voice.

"Yes, I'm fine," said Barnabas, slowly. "Is... Matthew, here?" he asked, carefully, hoping that he's question didn't seem too odd.

"No, he isn't," said Sebastian, continuing to watch him carefully. "He went to the Cannery late this afternoon, and I haven't seen him, since. He's probably out with Ben and Megan. Barnabas, are you sure you're alright?"

Barnabas held himself stiffly, his right arm hidden from sight within the cape of his Inverness. He looked pale, and nervous. "I'm fine," he said, again, and fought the agony he felt from his injured hand.

Sebastian's curiosity was aroused. He came closer to the vampire. "Forgive my saying so, Barnabas, but you terrible."

Barnabas chuckled, albeit briefly. "I assure you, Sebastian, I'm fine."

"Well, if you're sure," Sebastian finally relented, reluctantly. "Well, if you'll get ready, I'll give you the injection."

He crossed over to his desk, and unlocked one of the drawers. He turned, with syringe and serum ready, and Barnabas still remained where he was, coat and all. "Barnabas?" he questioned. "Didn't you hear me?"

Fighting back against the pain, he said, through gritted teeth, "I won't be having the...injection tonight."

"Are they starting to fail again?" he asked, concerned, coming over to him again. "Barnabas, you must tell me."

"No…they haven't started to fail again," said Barnabas, and Sebastian saw a grimace cease his face.

"Barnabas, you're in pain!" he said, in surprise.

"It'll pass," he assured him. "I'll be alright in a few days."

"Barnabas, if the injections are the reason..."

"They aren't!" he insisted, and turned away from his friend.

Greatly concerned, Sebastian put down the things he was holding. "Barnabas, I demand you tell me what's going on!" he said, in a tone that brooked no argument.

Barnabas chuckled derisively, and turned to face the Watcher. "You demand?" he asked haughtily, raising his head slightly, almost appearing to look down his nose at the other man.

"Yes!" said Sebastian, resolutely. "You must tell me, Barnabas!" he said, in a tone that Barnabas, knew well, and longed to hear again.

His bravado fell, as he half turned away from Sebastian. "You almost sound like Julia," he said quietly.

"I'll take that, as a compliment, then," said Sebastian, his mouth twitching into a smile. It quickly vanished, as he's expression became one of horror, and shock. "Barnabas!" he cried. "Your hand!"


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N **Thanks for the reviews. This story is much darker than the previous ones, I've written. I hope however that you continue to read and review and enjoy the story.

Chapter 10

Barnabas, looking alarmed, hid his hand back within the folds of his cape.

"Barnabas, let me see!" insisted, Sebastian.

"It's nothing," Barnabas tried to brush it off. "I'll be alright in a few days. Please, don't concern yourself."

Sebastian's grey eyes grew cold, and determined. Over the years, Barnabas had come to know him well, and knew what that look meant. "I insist that you show me, Barnabas," he said quietly, and he knew he had judged his mood well.

With a defeated look, Barnabas slowly drew his right hand out from under his cape. Sebastian hissed in breath at the sight. The entire hand looked very much like raw meat. Blisters were beginning to form, and several of the fingers, seemed to be blackened. Sebastian frowned, slightly, as he stared at the burnt hand, keeping very careful control over his expression.

"What the hell happened, Barnabas?" he asked, looking up once more to face the vampire.

Barnabas sighed and looked down, at his hand briefly, before hiding it from sight once more. "My own foolishness," he said, casually. "I lingered longer than I..."

"You tried to destroy yourself?" interrupted Sebastian, horrified. "Barnabas, you know what the prophecy said! Only Matthew can help you!"

Barnabas looked down at the floor, contrite. "I think we should both realise that Matthew isn't capable of forgiveness. He won't listen to a word I say, he can barely stand the sight of me."

Sebastian watched Barnabas closely, and Barnabas felt uncomfortable under his scrutiny. Something he'd said had made him suspicious. "How long did Matt stay at the Old House, after I dropped him off, Barnabas?" he asked suddenly, the idea forming in his mind, seemed impossible, and yet, completely credible.

"Until dawn," said Barnabas, truthfully. "Why?"

"Odd, isn't it, that he can barely stand the sight of you, and then he stays talking at the Old House, until dawn." The grey eyes grew colder with a fury rarely seen. "You didn't linger longer than you should have Barnabas!" said Sebastian in his quite way when he was truly angry. "It was Matthew," he stated.

Barnabas remained silent.

"My God, Barnabas!" he cried, horrified. "Matthew forced you to wait for the sun, and you weren't going to tell me!" He stared intently at him, and then whispered. "You're afraid of him!"

Again, Barnabas remained silent. He stared at the floor. His silence was answer enough.

"Barnabas, he's getting out of control! This is torture! You cannot let him get away with this!"

"He's my son!" cried Barnabas, turning to face the Watcher. It didn't matter that he was afraid of him; he was still his son, his own flesh and blood.

"Barnabas, son or not, he cannot be allowed to get way with this! I will not allow it to continue."

"He's all I have of her!" said Barnabas, desperately, his voice cracking slightly. "He's all I have of Julia!"

The look of all consuming grief broke through Sebastian's anger. He sighed, and shook his head. "Barnabas, I know you miss her. And I know what it took for you to do what you did that night. And, I can even understand that Matthew is your link to her, but he's spiralling out of control. I told you, a few nights ago that there is anger, a rage, building up inside him, and if he didn't find a release, I didn't know what would happen. He's taking that frustration out on you. Yesterday, he destroyed Julian Spencer."

"Yes, he took great delight in telling all about it," said Barnabas, quietly.

"It was also his first slay," said Sebastian, knowingly. Barnabas looked at him, sharply.

"What are you saying?"

"I've tried to train him as a Slayer, Barnabas. But he has a double heritage. He's _more_ than just a Slayer. He's a dhampir, too. All that training is built in. Its natural for him to do what he did to Julian, and what he tried to do to you. But, I'm afraid of what destroying Julian might have done. It's in his blood, Barnabas. He can't help it, no more than you can help what you are. I can only do so much, and if he leans towards the dhampir, I dread to think what will happen. The Council are getting concerned."

Barnabas picked up on Sebastian's tone, and knew that it could mean trouble. "How, concerned?" he asked, worried for his son.

"Right now, Matthew is still useful to them. But if their concerns grow, then."

"What will they do to him?" he asked fearfully.

"I honestly don't know, Barnabas. But they have been known to make those who give them concern to...conveniently disappear."

Barnabas' concern grew. "Are they that concerned?"

"Not yet, but if they learn of this, - and you can guarantee that they will - then…"

"I will not let anything happen to him, Sebastian," said Barnabas, darkly, moving closer to the other man, slightly.

"And you think I do? I have no intention of doing that Barnabas. As his Watcher, I'm not supposed to become personally involved, but, I can't help it. He's like a the son I never had." Realising that perhaps he had said too much, he looked down, suddenly feeling uncomfortable.

A smile twitched at the corners of Barnabas' mouth. "And then you question me, on why I'll endure anything he puts me through. He's my son, Sebastian, and he witnessed me, murder his mother. How can I expect him to act?"

"Not with torture, that's for sure," said Sebastian, swallowing. "Let me tend to your hand, Barnabas."

"No, I have my own ways. I'll be fine in a few nights."

"And what is your way, Barnabas? Fresh blood? The villagers are in an uproar as it is, over Julian. Let me tend to it Barnabas."

"No, Sebastian," said Barnabas, firmly.

Sebastian give him an odd look, then shook his head, "Very well, but be careful."

The door opened, and Matthew entered. He glared at the sight of his father.

As he came into the cottage proper, he walked purposefully towards his father, who took a few steps backwards. A smirk twitched briefly at the edges of Matt's mouth.

"I'm glad that you're home, Matthew," said Sebastian, watching the exchange.

Curious as to his tone, Matthew turned from his father to his Guardian.

"What's up with you, Sebastian? I've looked for Dane, and couldn't find him."

"I'm not interested in your excuses, Matthew!" stated Sebastian, quietly. "What I'm more concerned about is what you did to your father!"

Matthew's dark eyes grew darker, and he turned furiously to the vampire.

Barnabas seemed to shrink back against the wall, as he son approached him.

"You had to come telling tales didn't you!" he hissed.

Sebastian closed the space between them, and grabbed Matthew's arm. "You will deal with me, Matthew!" he ordered. "He didn't tell me anything!"

"Stay out of this, Sebastian!" warned Matt, now turning his anger on the Watcher. "You're my Watcher, not my father!"

"And I think my stars that I'm not! If I were, I'd have washed my hands on you, years ago! I both pity and admire your father, for putting up with you the way he does. I certainly wouldn't. Now, you will go out there, and hunt down the vampire responsible for Julian! I told you yesterday that Barnabas will not be harmed. And I warn you, if any more harm does come to him, I'll hold you responsible!"

Matthew stared at the Watcher, in shocked silence. He'd never heard Sebastian talk to him like this before. He glanced at Barnabas with a somewhat guilty look, and then back at Sebastian. Then, without saying a word, left the cottage, to do exactly what the Englishman had bid.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Matthew and Sebastian didn't see Barnabas for five days. Nor did Sebastian, suggest that Matthew make the effort to see or talk to him.

News of Julian's attack and subsequent death became old news, and the town's people moved on, if only slightly.

Matthew also didn't see Ben or Megan; instead he searched nightly to try and hunt down the vampire responsible, for Julian's attack, but it remained elusive. He remained convinced of Barnabas' guilt.

There hadn't been any more attacks in the village, except for those that had been directed towards livestock. Sebastian understood that it had been Barnabas' way, to heal his hand, rather than run the risk of taking human blood. The reason he'd refused Sebastian's help on tending his injured hand, now obvious.

On the sixth night, Barnabas rose at dusk as usual. His hand, although almost healed, still bore some signs of the burns. It would take a few more nights before it would be completely healed, because of the animal blood he had taken. He flexed it cautiously. It still gave him pain, but at least now it was bearable.

He frowned, as a familiar scent became apparent. He climbed out of his coffin, quickly, and sniffed experimentally at the air.

Surely it couldn't be what he thought it was? He sensed a presence, as the scent grew stronger, and then his eyes widened, as something warm, and gentle, touched his cheek. He eyes opened wider…he knew that touch!

"Julia!" he breathed.

The scent seemed to fade and Barnabas looked desperately around his hiding place. "Julia?" he called, "Julia, if that's really you, show yourself, if you can."

He'd moved around the room, as he watched for some sign from her, and the scent returned and then faded again. It seemed to be leading him in a particular direction, and he began to follow.

The scent led up to the attic, which had escaped relatively unscathed from the fire that had swept through the house. His sharp eyesight picked out a number of trunks that had been placed up here, too long ago, for anyone to remember who they had originally belonged to.

He recognised some of the trunks over to his right, as belonging to Julia, and it was over these that the scent lingered the most strongly. He went over to the first one, and bending down, opened it, intending to rummage through it, when he felt her presence, touch his cheek once more. Then, on invisible hands, a tin box opened, and a thin booklet rose into the air. He reached out, drawing it closer to him, and his eyes widened in surprise.

/

"Sebastian, if there's another vampire here, I can't find it," said Matthew wearily, as he sank into a chair. "If Barnabas is innocent, and I still don't think he is, I can't prove it." He sighed, tiredly. "I've looked everywhere. If it is Dane, then he's pretty well hidden, or else someone is protecting him."

"That is quite possible. Alright Matt," said Sebastian with a bleak smile. "I know you've tried your best. I know it seems pointless, but keep searching anyway. He may not even be in Collinsport. Perhaps that's why you can't find him?"

"Ok...I try the surrounding area," said Matt rising to his feet. "I'll go now."

"No, why don't you take the night off?" suggested Sebastian. "Why not see Ben and Megan? You haven't seen them for a while."

"They might have plans," Matt edged. The truth was, he wasn't sure what they had planned, except maybe more fighting. That's all they seemed to be doing lately. "I'll search for another hour, and then I'll call it a night," he explained as he headed towards the door. He paused, as the familiar pain, filled his head. It was unexpected, and he almost fell to his knees.

Sebastian went to the door, knowing that Matthew had just heralded the arrival of Barnabas.

Without acknowledging Sebastian, Barnabas burst into the cottage. A look of relief crossed his face at the sight of Matthew.

Matthew wasn't so pleased to see him. He looked from him to Sebastian, noting the surprised look on the Watcher's face. It was obvious that Barnabas was an unexpected guest; he'd first thought this unexpected meeting had been pre-arranged between them.

"I'm going out, Sebastian," said Matthew, as usual completely ignoring his father. "There's a bad smell in here, suddenly."

"Matthew, wait," said Barnabas, as he's son, continued on his way to the door. "Please, Matthew. I came to see you."

Matthew stood with his back rigid, to his father. "I don't want to see you. I thought I'd made that pretty obvious by now, Barnabas. There is nothing you or Sebastian can say that would even convince me to..."

Barnabas moved towards his son, but stopped just a few paces away from him.

"Stay, please, Matthew. There's something I want you to have."

With a sigh Matt turned around slowly to face the vampire that was his father. "What makes you think that I would possibly accept anything from you!"

"Just take a look, that's all I ask," said Barnabas, holding out the booklet that Julia's presence had picked out. "Please. Take it," encouraged Barnabas.

Curiosity made him take it. He read the header, and handed back to Barnabas. "You can't buy me off Barnabas," he said. "What makes you think I'd ever accept money from you?"

"Open it," he said, not answering the question. "Go on, open it."

"I'm not interested, in your blood money, Barnabas," he said, his eyes narrowing. He offered the booklet out to him again. Barnabas still refused to take it. With a shrug Matthew, made as if to tear it in two.

"It's not from me," Barnabas said quickly, making his son pause.

He looked questioningly at him. "If it's not from you, who is it from?"

"Look inside."

Matthew looked doubtful, but for once did as he was asked without argument.

He glanced at the signature, and then looked up abruptly.

Barnabas swallowed under his son's gaze. Matthew looked down again at the sum, written inside and then at the signature.

Sebastian looked from father to son and back again. "Who is it from, Matt?" he asked.

"My mother," said Matt, with a sense of shock. He looked at his father again.

"Where did you get this, and why?"

"I was looking through some old trunks in the attic," Barnabas explained, leaving out Julia's help for now. "And I came across one that belonged to your mother. Inside a small tin box, I found that. Apparently, unknown to everyone but her, she'd set up a trust fund for you. It was intended she give you the sum of $25,000, when you reached eighteen. A little late, but…I know that you're trying to restore the Fleet. When I found this, I thought that perhaps it might help."

Matthew stared at the booklet once more, still numbed. He didn't know what to say. He looked at his father, indecision on his face.

"She wanted you to have it, Matthew," replied Barnabas quietly. "I'm only doing what... she would have done," he said looking down.

With a sense of shock, Matthew couldn't think of a suitable barb; instead he nodded his head, and stuffed the booklet into the back pocket of his jeans. He paused by the door, and turned back to his father, his throat worked, but no sound came out.

Barnabas seemed to understand, for he bowed his head slightly, and Matthew left without saying a word.

/

The next day, he was knelt by the boat, brush in hand, still preoccupied by the news of the trust fund. After, he had left the cottage, he had gone straight to her grave, and had stayed there until dawn.

Then, before coming to the Cannery, he had returned with some fresh flowers. It was the only way he could think of, to thank her, and let her know that he missed her, and was thinking of her.

With a sigh, he brought himself out of his daydream, and began painting in the name of the boat, when he heard an unfamiliar step behind him.

He tensed, and slowly turned to face his unwanted guest.

"Hi, Matthew! Sebastian said, I'd find you here."

Matthew rose quickly to his feet, a huge grin on his face. "Quentin!"


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Quentin grinned, as he hugged the younger boy close to him, briefly. Then, holding him at arms length he looked him up and down, before declaring, "I do believe you've grown another foot, since the last time I was here!"

Matthew grinned somewhat embarrassed. "Nah, you've just gotten shorter, Quentin," he teased.

Quentin shook his head in wonder. "Look at you," he said. "All grown up."

It had been almost seven years since he had last visited Collinsport. He'd been travelling, when the events that led to Barnabas' discovery and Julia's death had occurred. He'd returned for the funerals, staying only a short time, before leaving once more to return to Egypt.

Over the years he had found it necessary to think up cover stories, to explain away the fact that he hadn't aged in all the time anyone had known him. Although he was the same Quentin that had seen Matthew grow to manhood, he couldn't very well admit it to him. Only Barnabas and now Sebastian knew his true identity.

"When did you get back to Collinsport?" Matthew wanted to know, eagerly. "Will you be staying long?"

"I've been here a few hours," Quentin admitted. "I was in Clearwater, visiting with Carolyn for a few days." He stared at the younger boy, with blue-eyed intensity. "She misses you," he said, with a slight reprove in his tone. "She mentioned that Nick had been by, a few weeks ago. Trouble in the village with your father."

Matthew's face clouded, the merriment fading slightly in his eyes. "There was some, yeah," he agreed. "But things have settled down now, to what they were."

"Have you been having trouble with the villagers, again, Matt?" he asked, reading more into his tone.

"Nothing that I can't handle," he shrugged.

"Look, Matthew, " began Quentin. "Sebastian's told me a lot more of what's been going here. About Julian."

"I've heard this from Sebastian, and Barnabas," said Matthew, sounding tired. "I was hoping you'd spare me the lecture too, Quentin. I've told Sebastian and Barnabas, over and over again, that if there is another vampire here that I haven't been able to find it. I don't know why. Have either of you ever thought, that Barnabas isn't exactly innocent in any of this?"

"Maybe he is and maybe he isn't," agreed Quentin, carefully, knowing that he was on dangerous ground. If he revealed too much...then Barnabas wouldn't be the only outcast in the village. And Sebastian had described Barnabas' hand in too much gory detail for him to want to experience Matthew's rage first hand. "But he's still your father, and."

"Quentin, I saw him murder my mother," said Matt, cutting him off. "I was eight years old. I still have nightmares about it. He says he didn't attack Julian, but there's no evidence of another vampire for miles around. Believe me, he's as guilty as the night my mother died. Now, if you don't mind, I'd rather not talk about Barnabas."

"There could be more to it, than you realise," Quentin continued, and then paused. Had he said too much?

Matt's eyes narrowed. "I seriously doubt it," he replied, in bored voice.

"Dane was a nasty piece of work," Quentin continued, deciding to take a chance after all. "Did you know that it was because of Dane, your father nearly lost his life?"

"I never knew that," said Matthew, genuinely surprised. "What happened?"

"It was before your mother and father married. Julia was treating him at the time, and he had an allergic reaction to the treatment she was giving him. When Willie, called at Collinwood to tell her, Dane stopped him. And he made certain that she was away from Collinsport all day, so by the time she returned, Barnabas was in pretty bad shape. When Julia found out, she was furious. Barnabas recovered, luckily, and it was shortly after that, they got married. Dane and your father, weren't the best of friends; and Dane wasn't pleased at the match, and vowed to do everything he could to stop the marriage. He didn't, but he vowed to return one day."

"So, that's why he kidnapped my mother, to get back at Barnabas," Matt mused. "But Sebastian said that Dane eventually told him where she was."

"That's true. He worked for a Lord Ravensbrook, at the time. Nobody knew much about Ravensbrook," Quentin lied. "Except that he may have been a practitioner of the Black Arts."

He was aware that he couldn't tell him everything, just yet. Ultimately it had to be Sebastian and Barnabas to fill in the gaps. When he had agreed to help Sebastian, he knew that it wouldn't be easy. There was only so much he could revel without giving himself away. As far as Matthew was concerned, he hadn't been there, when the events took place.

"I told Sebastian I remembered meeting Dane twice before. But no one has ever mentioned seeing this Ravensbrook. If Dane worked for him, he must have known that he had kidnapped my mother. If he did, then he must have been in on it. How else could he have gotten away with it?" He paused, thinking. Then quickly turning to face his cousin, he asked, "Isn't it possible that Ravensbrook was a vampire, and when Dane told Barnabas, where she was, Ravensbrook punished him, by turning him into a vampire?"

"I don't know," said Quentin, carefully. "You'll have to ask Sebastian," he suggested. He hardly dared to hope that he might have gotten through to the teenager; that he was finally on the path to forgiveness. If he could even begin to think that Barnabas was telling the truth about Dane and Julian…then at least it was a start. He truly hoped so.

"But," said Matt, breaking into his thoughts. "Can two vampires co-exist? And would Dane have known Ravensbrook was a vampire, before he started working for him?"

A voice calling out Matt's name ended their discussion, and Quentin turned towards the sound. A young girl he didn't recognise was approaching them.

He turned, just in time to catch the look that crossed Matt's face, as the girl came nearer.

"Matt, Ben..." she began, then stopped when she realised that he wasn't alone. "Sorry, I didn't know that you were busy…Ben asked me to..."

Matt walked over to her, and said, "Megan this is my cousin, Quentin Collins. Quentin, this Megan Philips, Ben's girlfriend."

Megan smiled politely, but Matt could see that she was upset about something. "Pleased to meet you. Matt, I thought you might be working, that's why I came over. But if your cousin…"

"Don't mind me," said Quentin, holding up a protesting hand. "If you and Matt have plans, I completely understand. I was just leaving."

"No, it's alright, I'll come back later."

"Megan, wait!" Matthew called after her, but she carried on, without a backward glance. Quentin stared at Matt, and then turned in the direction Megan had gone, looking thoughtful.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

When Quentin returned to the cottage, Sebastian was waiting for him.

"Well?" he asked impatient, even for him.

"I tried, Sebastian, but I don't know if it will do any good. He might be willing to listen about Barnabas; it's hard to tell. I couldn't say too much, without giving myself away."

"But you did tell him about Dane?"

"Sebastian, I told him what I could," said Quentin firmly. "But this girl…Megan, came in just as I thought I might be getting somewhere with him. Could Barnabas be responsible for Julian, after all? I mean, if there was another vampire around some place, surely Matt would have found it?"

Sebastian, removed his glasses, and rubbed his eyes. He sighed, deeply, before answering. "There haven't been any more attacks, since Julian. Barnabas is adamant that he wasn't responsible. And now he says that Julia has come back."

"Come back?" asked Quentin, surprised.

"He says he felt her presence at the Old House. He smelt the perfume she used to wear."

"And you believe him?"

Sebastian looked at Quentin, seriously. "I can't help but believe him. I smelt it myself when he was here."

Quentin watched the younger boy carefully then, followed his intense gaze.

/

Across the street, he recognised the young woman he'd introduced as Megan. The same look he'd seen the day before, on his face. He recognised that look, and shook his head. He clasped Matthew's shoulder, who barely seemed to notice.

"Take my advice, Matt," he said knowingly. "Girls like that, are nothing but trouble."

Matthew turned to his cousin, puzzled. "What'd you mean? What have you got against Megan? She's alright, she's my friend."

"I'm sure she's a fine girl," Quentin admitted, looking across the street, thoughtfully. "But she's also seeing your best friend."

Matthew looked away guiltily. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Quentin sighed, deciding not to push the matter. "Well, some traditions never change, that's for sure," he laughed, hoping to lighten the sudden tension between them. "You've got the Collins eye, for beautiful women!" He slapped him, companionably on the back. And laughing at his own joke, headed back to the cottage, while his cousin, continued to watch Megan, a few minutes longer, then headed into the ruined Cannery.

/

The late afternoon had progressed quicker then he'd guessed as he stepped back from his work.

Wiping his hands on a rag, he nodded appreciatively at his own handiwork; pleased with the way it had gone.

A step made him turn, moving so that he partly blocked the boat. He relaxed on seeing that it was Megan. He could tell that something wasn't right. He'd known since the previous after noon.

After Quentin had left he'd gone searching for her, but hadn't been able to find her. This had been the first time, since he'd watched her from across the street, and the feeling of relief at the sight of her, was overwhelming.

"Megan, are you alright?" he asked, taking a step closer to her.

She tried to smile, but couldn't quite manage it. "I'll be alright, Matt," she replied quietly. And Matt knew that she was lying.

"Talking about it, can help sometimes," he tried again, smiling hopefully. "I might not have all the answers, but you won't know unless you try."

She wanted to tell him, but wasn't sure how. Sometimes she found him so much easier to talk to then Ben. "I really don't think you could help, Matt," she said, deciding not to burden him with her troubles. He had enough of his own.

He nodded. "Well, if you want to talk, you now where I am."

It was then she saw what he'd done to the boat. "Oh Matt!" she said, moving closer, so she could see better. "You've done a great job!"

Emblazoned on the bow of the boat in blue paint was the name _The Julia_ _Hoffman_. She turned her gaze up to his. "She'd have been so proud."

It was Matt's turn to look down. "Thanks," he said quietly. "It seemed obvious what to name her."

"You miss her a lot, don't you?" she asked, sympathetically.

"Yeah. It feels like a part of me, is missing. Whoever said time heals all wounds, was a liar. It only gets harder." He stopped, not wanting to burden her with his grief. She knew well enough how he felt. "I'll walk you home," was all he said after a few minutes.

/

"Megan, please tell me what's wrong," he said after ten minutes of walking in silence.

"I wouldn't know where to start," she said miserably. "And besides, your Ben's best friend."

He glanced at her for a moment. "What's that supposed to mean? You're my friend, too. Has this something to do with Ben?"

"Everything and nothing," she said enigmatically.

"I know things haven't been going all that well between you two. That's why I've been spending most of my time at the Cannery, give you some space to try and sort things out. Besides, you've fought before, and made it up."

"He's been odd since I moved in with Aunt Bea," said Megan, turning away. "He asked me if there's anyone else."

Matthew stopped walking. "That's ridiculous!"

"That's what I told him!"

Matthew looked at her curiously, grateful that the descending darkness hid his features from her. "Is there someone else?" he asked, cautiously, his heart racing frantically.

"No there isn't!" she said, sounding angry. She turned away, from him, abruptly. "I thought you would understand, Matt," she continued, in a teary sounding tone, and he realised that she was crying, and he felt sudden anger at Ben. What was going on?

"Megan, please," he said gently, not knowing what to do.

She turned and leaned against him, her tears dampening his T-shirt. For a moment his hands hovered inches from her back, as if unsure of what do.

Then they dropped and held her close. "Honey, please don't cry," he said, as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

When her stifled sobs, quietened, he put his fingers beneath her chin, lifting her head up. Her eyes and cheeks were still moist with tears. He looked down into her face, his eyes searching her face.

Tentatively, his thumbs wiped away the tears from the corners of her eyes. Then, as if pulled by invisible threads, he bent down, his lips drawn to hers. The movement was uncertain, as though he were afraid of rejection, but she completed it for him.

The kiss was full, she returned the pressure, her lips parting to allow him entrance, almost taking his breath away. His senses reeled crazily. It was an alarming yet wonderful moment; a forbidden kiss, yet it was mutual.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

As the kiss deepened, he moved her closer to him. His senses whirled deliriously. He couldn't believe that she was in his arms, and that he was kissing her like this. For the past six months she had been all he could think of.

He knew his feelings for her were wrong - she was Ben's girlfriend. Ben was his friend - his best friend…and he was betraying him.

Abruptly he pulled away from her, staring down into her face with disbelief and self-loathing. What was he thinking of? He shouldn't be doing this, and neither should she. Filled with loathing for himself, he looked down at the ground. "I'm...sorry," he blurted awkwardly, before turning in the direction they had just come from, and disappearing into the darkness.

"Matt, wait!" Megan called, after his disappearing form, but he had already gone. She watched the point he had disappeared; half hoping that he would come back. He didn't.

Dejected, she turned and continued on her way to her Aunt Bea's house alone.

/

Sebastian looked up from his reading as Matthew burst into the cottage. He leaned against the door, breathless. He wiped a hand distractedly across his mouth, closing his eyes as he did so.

Sebastian put his book down after marking his page, and crossed over to the teenager, concerned. "Matthew, are you alright?"

Matt jumped, further concerning the Watcher. Matt wasn't often easily spooked. He looked pale, and shaken, as though something had perhaps frightened him. He hadn't thought anything could frighten, Matthew Hoffman, but something obviously had.

"I'm fine, Sebastian," said Matt, straightening up, and turning towards the closed door, as though he half expected some terror to come crashing through the door at any second. "I..." he began, but changed his mind, shaking his head. "It's not important. I think I'd do some training."

Sebastian watched him as he headed towards the training gym. "Want a sparring partner?" he asked after a moment's consideration.

"No, I'd like to be alone. But I'll call you if I change my mind,"" he said understanding what the Watcher had meant.

Sebastian nodded, and continued to watch long after Matthew had left, before heading back to the sofa and picking up where he'd left off in his reading.

/

Matthew leaned against his bedroom door, his dark hair damp against his sweaty forehead. He'd been in the gym for three hours. He had thought a punishing workout would have helped him feel less like a traitor. He'd betrayed his best friend. Nothing could change that.

His fists clenched in self-directed anger. He leaned his head back against the door, and brought a clenched, shaking fist up to his mouth biting the back of it. "You fool!" he hissed, into the darkness. "You stupid, stupid fool!"

/

Sebastian watched his charge, with a wary eye. It was obvious that he hadn't slept well.

"The workout doesn't seemed to have done you much good," was his comment, hoping that he'd draw him into a conversation.

Matthew stared gloomily at his orange juice. "The workout was fine...I just didn't sleep well. I'll be fine."

"If your sure. Look," Sebastian's tone changed. "I know you hate it, nor understand why it's important, but the blood test has to be done, and it's..."

"It's alright, Sebastian. Just get the stupid test over with," he replied, moodily.

He looked at him in surprise. "Is now too inconvenient?" he asked, letting the surprise inflect his voice.

Matthew sighed wearily. "Might as well get it over with, and get you off my back. Where's Quentin?" he asked, "I'd like to talk to him about something."

"I'm afraid he left early this morning. He mentioned stopping off to say goodbye to Carolyn, before heading back to Egypt. Is it something I can help you with?"

Matthew shook his head. "No. Thanks, it's something I'll just have to work out by myself."

/

Shortly after Sebastian had left for Wyndcliffe, with Matthew's blood sample, there was a knock on the door. Thinking that perhaps Sebastian had left his key, Matt opened it, his heart skipping a beat on seeing Megan.

"Megan!" he gasped, surprised to see her on his doorstep, and then looked guiltily down at the floor. "I...I thought it was..."

"Ben?" she finished for him.

He looked up at her, his face pale. "Yeah, Ben." He stood awkwardly in the doorway, and Megan had the impression that he'd close the door in her face, given half the chance.

"I had to see you. Can I come in?" she asked, tentatively.

Matthew gulped, alarmed at the thought of being alone with her.

"It'll just take a minute," she coaxed, knowing that the door could close at any second.

After a moment's hesitation, when she thought he might actually shut the door in her face he opened the door wider and took a step back.

He held himself rigid, his hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his sweatpants. An awkward silence was between them, that neither seemed eager to break.

"Did you tell Ben?" he asked awkwardly after several minutes.

"No," replied Megan, watching him closely. He looked down quickly.

"Megan..." he began, and then stopped. He'd lain awake most of the night, thinking over what had happened, and how he could explain it. But as the early hours had grown shorter, he still couldn't explain it even to himself. She filled his every waking thought. She filled his dreams.

He'd had a few girlfriends, in the past, but none had ever stuck around, once they found out about Barnabas. Megan was different. Somehow she'd managed to get under his skin, in a way the others never had.

"I'm sorry. Last night...was my fault," he said with difficulty. "I took advantage, I didn't mean for it to happen."

"But it did happen, Matt," said Megan, coming over to him. He flinched as though he been burned. "We both let it happen."

"It should never have happened, Megan!" he shouted, angry with himself. "I got carried away, let my feelings..." he stopped and turned away from her. "I had no right…I won't hurt Ben. He's my friend!"

"I'm your friend too, Matt!" said Megan, turning him to face her. He refused to look at her.

"He's my best friend...we went through school together. He's stood by me, when everything went to hell, and I won't betray him, Megan!"

"Are you going to tell him?" she questioned, worriedly.

"I should."

"If you do, you'll hurt him and neither of us want to do that."

Matthew sighed, knowing that she was right. "You're Ben's girl, not mine. I have no right to feel the way I do," he admitted. "I don't want to hurt him, and I don't want to hurt you."

"I can't forget what happened last night. It happened. You kissed me, and I let you. I know how you feel..."

He looked up at her, immediately knowing that it was a mistake. He turned his back on her again. He wouldn't give in.

"You'd better go."

"Matt..."

He closed his eyes tightly. "Megan, just go! We both have to forget last night."

He felt her eyes on his back for a moment, could imagine the look on her face at his words. Emptiness filled him as he sensed her head towards the door.

He knew that if she went through that door, then things would never be as they were. He relaxed for the first time since she'd entered the cottage. "Megan," he said, sensing her stop as he turned to face her.

She turned to look back at him. He stared at her moment, and then she was across the room and in his arms, their lips meeting, before she knew what was happening.

The kiss ended, and they stood together, forehead to forehead. He looked deeply into her eyes, as he whispered, "Megan, what have we done?"


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

"You're getting slow, Sebastian," laughed Matt, as he watched the older man pick himself up yet again. Sebastian rose stiffly to his feet, underneath all the padding he wore. It didn't seem to be helping much; he could still feel every delivered blow.

Sebastian looked at him, reproachfully. Then smiled. For the past three weeks, the change in Matthew had been startling. He couldn't help, but think that Quentin's talk had done some good; he certainly seemed more tolerant of Barnabas.

Though Sebastian had thought it wise not to rush this newfound tolerance. Or the reluctant believe that Barnabas might actually be innocent of attacking Julian. He's interest in his Slayer heritage had also taken a transformation. His new enthusiasms of late had impressed him.

It was a welcome change from the past seven months of indifference.

Sebastian knew however, that Matthew's interest could soon vanish again.

"I'm letting you win," muttered Sebastian, wincing slightly.

"Call yourself, a Watcher?" Matt asked, his expression deadpan. "Wimp more like, hiding behind all that padding. Anyone would think you didn't want to get hurt."

"I'm already black and blue from yesterday's training session," Sebastian defended himself. "You've never been this enthusiastic in your training."

Matthew grinned, his dark, hypnotic eyes, sparkling. "Stop complaining, and start blocking,"

Sebastian groaned and rolled his eyes heavenward. "Again?"

/

Matthew bent diligently over the engine as he worked. He'd already been at the Cannery for several hours, and the work hadn't been going well.

Deciding to take a break, before he lost his temper, he wiped his hands, and tossed the dirty rag on the workbench, as footsteps approached.

His growing anger quickly disappeared as he saw who was visiting.

Megan smiled, as he embraced her, and kissed her. "Now you're a welcome sight," he said, when the kiss ended.

Still in his embrace, she looked up at him. "Things not going well?"

"They are now," he said, kissing her again.

"Hmmm," she grinned against his lips.

Abruptly he moved away from her, as he heard more footsteps approaching. Seconds later, Ben joined them. Megan looked away guiltily, but said nothing. Ben seemed not to notice that anything was wrong.

"Coming to the Coffee shop, Matt?" he asked, perching himself, on a stool.

"Yeah, why not?" he said, turning towards the offending engine. "Before I end up, tossing that into the sea. Just let me wash up first."

"I'll head on over," said Ben rising to his feet. "Coming Megan?" he asked.

Matt looked at her and then at Ben. Megan caught the glance even if Ben did not. "Yeah, I want to ask Matt something first though. You go on ahead I'll catch up."

Ben frowned, and glanced at Matt. Matt engrossed himself in soaping his hands, pretended not to see him, watching him. "Alright," he said, before heading out.

Matt waited for several minutes, stopping Megan from coming over to him with a slight shake of his head. He relaxed when he heard the footsteps continue.

"That was close," he breathed. He looked up at Megan. "You'd better go after him. But we need to talk later, Megan," he said, intently. "That's the second time, he's almost caught us."

/

Megan found Matt sitting on the dock, his long legs dangling over the edge, as he stared out at the ocean. He rose to his feet, when she stopped beside him. She knew from the look on his face that he had something on his mind.

She wasn't sure if it was what she wanted to hear.

Matt looked down at his feet. For six months he had hid his feelings for Megan, not once believing that she might ever feel the same way about him.

And when he had kissed her that first time, it had come as a complete shock to realise that she did feel the same way.

He hadn't intended for things to continue as they had been for the last three weeks; had even told her that he wouldn't hurt Ben, by doing so.

Somehow, he'd known that if he'd let her leave, then things would never be the same between them again. He didn't want to hurt Ben, but he couldn't do without Megan, either.

Finally he looked up at her. "Megan," he began, slowly. "I can't do this anymore. It's got to stop," he said, miserably.

"Matt," she began, tears welling in her eyes. He held up a hand.

"Let me finish," he said, "It's not want you think." He looked out to sea again. It was several minutes before he took and deep breath, and said, "I love you, Megan. But I can't go on doing this behind Ben's back. It's not fair to him, or you. Or me. I said, I wouldn't put pressure on you, make you choose between Ben and me, but.." He shook his head. "I need to know," he said desperately. "Either we tell Ben everything or..." he left the sentence unfinished.

Megan stared at him. It was the first time he had said that he loved her.

She wasn't sure when she'd first realised that she was attracted to him, or even if he felt the same way about her. The night he had kissed her, it had come as a complete surprise to her. And when she had gone to the cottage to confront him about it, and he'd meant to send her away, she'd felt crushed at his rejection. Then he'd called her, and she knew that there would be no going back.

"I don't need to think about it, Matt," she said, quietly. She stepped closer to him, looking up into his dark eyes. "You're right. We're not being to fair ourselves, but most of all to Ben. He deserves to know. I love you, Matt."

He let out his breath with a rush. He hadn't realised that he'd been holding it. "Megan!" he whispered as he embraced her, and kissed her deeply. He let her go, staring at her intently. "Are you sure about this?" he asked. "Is this what you really want?"

She smiled, nodding. Her fingers brushed his cheek, tracing his jaw line.

"I'm sure, Matt. More sure than anything. We'll tell Ben everything."

He drew her to him again, kissing her.

/

Rain lashed the windows; the wind rattled the windows, as two figures stirred uneasily in dream filled sleep.

Matthew muttered sleepily, as he moved restlessly. The rotund figure of a man remained in shadows, but somehow he knew that he was a man to be feared. Insane laughter filled the darkness, as the shadowed figure held something up. Slowly, the darkness lifted a fraction, revealing a scarred face.

The figure moved closer and closer the thing he was holding up, the most grotesque thing he had ever seen. With a start Matthew woke, a cry of fear and alarm frozen on his lips. The strange fear he had felt in his dream, still with him.

In another room, Sebastian awoke at the same time as Matthew. His eyes were wide with fear as he fearfully uttered one word. "Petofi!"


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N **Many thanks as always for the reviews. They are appreciated

Chapter 16

Sebastian was waiting for Matthew when he made his way into the kitchen the next morning. One look was enough to know that he hadn't slept well the previous night, either.

"Matthew, I need to talk to you," he said, seriously.

Matthew hadn't heard him use that tone in along time. In fact the only time he could remember hearing it recently, had been when the Watcher had seen what he'd done to Barnabas' hand, after forcing him to watch the sun rise.

But that had been weeks ago.

"What is it, Sebastian?" he asked sitting down, and pouring himself some orange juice.

Sebastian took off his glasses, and rubbed his eyes, before pinching the bridge of his nose. Matthew frowned; Sebastian was nervous. Whatever he wanted to talk about was more than "serious."

"Last night, you had a dream," he began, picking his words carefully. "About a man you didn't know."

Matthew nodded slowly, and the swallowed. He was attuned to Sebastian's moods, enough to know when to make light of whatever he said. This was definitely not one of them.

"How do you know?" he asked his face paling slightly.

"A Watcher knows what he's Slayer dreams, remember?"

Matt looked down at his juice. "I can still hear that laughter," he said, with a shudder. He looked up at him earnestly. "Who is he, Sebastian? He makes my skin crawl."

Sebastian took a few minutes before answering. "He's name is Count Petofi."

"You say that name as though I'm supposed to know who he is. If I ever met him, I don't remember it."

"In recent years, he is the worst enemy, your family has faced."

"You mean the Collins family," said Matt, automatically.

"You were born a Collins, Matthew," said Sebastian, his voice lowering slightly. "Hiding behind the Hoffman name won't be of much help, either. Petofi considered your mother his enemy just as much as your father."

"If this is going to turn into another defence of Barnabas, you can stop there," said Matt, his dark eyes beginning to darken even more. "I accept he may be innocent of attacking Julian, but my mother, and possibly Dane, he is not."

"Petofi was responsible for your mother's disappearance, Matthew!"

"Dane kidnapped my mother, while he was working for this Lord Ravensbrook."

"That was what Petofi called himself, while he was here. So that your mother and father wouldn't know he was here, until it suited his purpose."

"How?" Matt demanded.

Sebastian sighed. Matthew still didn't know everything that had happened, leading to his mother's death. He still wasn't sure if he was ready to hear all of it. Matthew wasn't always prepared to hear of his father's innocence, and it seemed this would be yet another instance. It seemed the truce between them, was over.

"Somehow, Dane got mixed up with him. Petofi had some mad scheme that he could get your mother to leave your father, and marry Dane instead. Of course that didn't happen. When your father confronted him at the Inn, while rescuing your mother, he made your father a vampire. He prophesised that a "heart of love would turn to hate." At first, we thought it was your mother. It turned out to be you."

"You never give up, do you?" asked Matt truly angry now. "You never miss a chance to get me to forgive him, do you?" He shook his head, in disgust.

Sebastian's grey eyes grew colder, and his voice dropped lower. "And you are never prepared to listen. I'm telling you, Matthew _Collins_, that Petofi was behind everything that happened here, ten years ago. He's responsible for your mother's death, not Barnabas."

"I saw him, break her neck! And so did you!"

"Grow up Matthew!" said Sebastian, rising to his feet; his eyes colder than Matthew had ever seen them. "If you're so determined to issue blame, then think about this! The reason, your mother was up at the Old House that night was because of _you_!"

"Me?" asked Matt, shocked.

"You! She went up there, looking for you! If you hadn't disappeared that night, she wouldn't have been up at the Estate looking for you." He took a deep breath. "Petofi was responsible for that too, though we didn't know it at the time. But, you're so smart; you only see what's in front of you. There's more to this, than you know, and you'd realise that, if you'd let Barnabas and I explain!"

He moved away from the table and stopped before Matt. "I'm out of town all day. The Council wants to hold a meeting, and then, I'm going to see Nick at Wyndcliffe. Barnabas will need to be told of Petofi's possible return. It seems likely that I won't be back until late tonight to early tomorrow. I suggest you think over what I've said."

/

Matthew stared at the Old House, with narrowed eyes. Somewhere, deep inside, Barnabas lay sleeping in his coffin, impervious to any questions or demands he might make. He knew Sebastian was really furious with him.

He looked down at his feet. Was Sebastian right; was it because of him, that his mother was dead? He refused to believe it. He had watched, as Barnabas, had taken his mother's head, and twisted her neck. He closed his eyes against the memory. But that didn't help, as he continued to see the image played out in the darkness of his closed lids. He opened his eyes again, slowly. He sighed, and slowly headed back towards the town.

/

"I'm afraid I was short with him," Sebastian admitted. He looked slightly embarrassed, as he admitted, "I'm afraid, I may have gone too far, in saying that it was because of him that Julia was up here in the first place."

Barnabas met the Watcher's glance. "It's too late to think of that now. Our main concern is Petofi. What could he want, returning here, after all this time?"

"I honestly don't know, Barnabas. Maybe Petofi has discovered that Matt is a Slayer or a dhampir. Or it could be that he's recent - at least until now - tolerance of you has come to his attention. It could be that his power over him is wearing off. After this morning, I doubt that. He's willing to forgive you over Julian, but Julia…" He shook his head. "That's a different matter entirely."

"I called by the cottage, earlier this evening, but he wasn't home. Maybe I should try tomorrow night?"

"Well, it certainly wouldn't harm. He may be in a more receptive mood, after today, but I seriously doubt it. I'm afraid my blunder may have put us back to square one."

/

Megan awoke to the sound of a shower running. The room was still in darkness, with only a thin strip of light coming from under the door of the bathroom. She snuggled deeper under the covers, closing her eyes again.

They snapped open again, quickly, as she realised with a sense of panic, that this wasn't her room. Then she smiled the panic fading. The shower stopped and five minutes later, Matthew came out, rubbing his hair dry.

He smiled and sat down on the edge of the bed, still drying his hair. "I didn't mean to wake you," he said.

She smiled up at him. "You didn't. What time is it?"

He looked down at his watch. "A little after six."

"So early?" she asked surprised.

He smiled, and still looking down at her, his smile turned into a grin.

"Sleep well?" he asked.

Her smile was answer enough; their first time together, a pleasant memory.

Then, as if noticing he was wearing sweatpants, she asked, "Where are you going?"

"Morning run. I shouldn't be more than an hour." He bent down and kissed her. "Why don't you go back to sleep, and when I get back, we'll have breakfast?"

She snuggled deeper under the covers. "I'll sleep much better, if you're here with me," she teased.

He laughed softly. "Tempting, but Sebastian will know if I don't go. I won't be very long, I promise," he said, kissing her again.

"I forgot about Sebastian," she said, glancing towards the bedroom door, uneasily.

"Relax, he doesn't get up until around 8.30. If he asks, I'll just say that you called by early. I'll wake you when I get back." They kissed once more, and then, pulling on a sweater, he quietly left the room.

/

"Are you sure you don't want any breakfast before you go?" Matthew asked her, as he walked her to the door, an hour and half later.

"I'd better get back, before Aunt Bea misses me. Besides, Ben will be back from visiting his relatives by noon."

"We'll meet back here at noon," suggested Matt. "Decide how best to tell him..." he looked at her curiously. "Megan, your not changing your mind are you?" he asked suddenly feeling uneasily.

"No," she said quickly. "It's just... are we doing the right thing? Telling him, I mean?"

"We have to, Megan. In the long run wouldn't it be better for him to hear it from us, than from someone else? He's been a good friend to me, and I can't lie to him anymore."

"I suppose," she said uncertainly. "I'm afraid, Matt," she said, looking up at him.

He drew her closer to him, his arms sliding around her waist, as hers encircled his neck. Their foreheads touching. "I am too," he admitted. "But he has to know."

She nodded, and they kissed, unaware that they were being watched.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Ben headed towards the ruined Cannery. He'd returned earlier than he'd expected from visiting his relatives in Rockport. He'd hoped to see Megan after his return, and had headed to her Aunt Bea's house to surprise her, but she wasn't there.

Lost in thought he didn't notice the solitary figure waiting for him, until he spoke. "You pick lousy friends, Ben Marshall."

Ben looked up, and frowned, as he recognised the voice of Nathan Jackson.

The three of them had had trouble with Nathan, before. And it came as no surprise, that he was trying to cause more trouble for Matt now.

"I've heard all this before, Nathan. You need new material. Matt's my friend, and nothing anyone can say will change that."

Nathan smiled smugly. "I'm not just talking about Matthew Collins."

"He's name is Hoffman, as you well know," Ben defended him. "He shouldn't be blamed for what happened ten years ago. He had nothing to do with it. He was just a kid."

"Maybe, maybe not. But he's no friend of yours Ben."

"He's more the friend than you are, that's for sure."

Nathan shook his head, enjoying himself. "Alright, let him make a fool of you. What difference does it make to me? Let him and Megan make a laughing stock out of you. Not that you aren't already."

Ben's frown deepened. He moved closer to the other boy. "What are you talking about? Matt and Megan are friends."

Jackson laughed. "Well, you can certainly say that, that's for sure. Very friendly." The humour faded from his voice, and he became serious. "He's screwin' her behind your back, Ben!"

Ben snorted. "Matt wouldn't do that," he said, defiantly. "They're just good friends."

"I saw 'em together, this morning," continued Jackson. "She was leaving the cottage, early this morning."

"So? Since when is that a crime?" asked Ben, bluffing. But he was beginning to have doubts. Nathan was a troublemaker, but he seemed so sure. And then there were he's own doubts he'd been having recently. He'd put it down to his imagination...he trusted Matt; and he trusted Megan.

"Very cosy. Couldn't keep their hands off each other. I think she stayed the night. That's why she was sneaking out the way she was."

"You're trying to cause trouble between Megan and me. And it won't work, Nate!" said Ben, angrily. He refused to believe that Matt and Megan would betray him. They were _friends_.

"Alright. Go to the cottage, see for yourself," he suggested. "The you'll know if he's the friend you think he is."

/

Shortly after noon, Megan entered the kitchen of the cottage, by the back door. Matt was bent over the sink, washing a few dishes. He turned at her footstep. He dried his hands as he came over to her. "Megan, what's wrong?" he asked, seeing her expression.

"I've just been to Aunt Bea's. Ben came by, asking where I was."

"So, he's back," stated Matt, with a sigh.

"How are we going to tell him, Matt?" she asked desperately.

"I don't know," he admitted, "but we have to, for his sake."

He embraced her, and she leaned against him, her eyes closed. "I'm so afraid."

"It's not going to be easy," he admitted. "But it's better in the long run." He bent down and kissed her. Still not quite believing that she was here with him.

"So it's true," said a familiar voice, and Matt abruptly pulled away from Megan, to confront Ben, standing in the doorway.

Matt swallowed, and faced his friend, guiltily. "Ben!" he croaked.

Ben stared at his former friend. Distress, dismay and utter disbelief on his face. He shook his head, trying to keep his emotions in check, but not quite succeeding. "How could you?" he asked, the hurt in his voice, plain, adding to Matt's guilt.

"Ben...we never wanted you to find out like this," Matt said, equally distressed. "We were going to tell you..."

"You were my friend..." continued Ben, as if he hadn't spoken. Humiliated tears sprang in his eyes, as he stared first at Matt and then at Megan. "I stood by you..."

"I'm so sorry, Ben!" gushed Matt his voice breaking. "We didn't want to hurt you."

Ben swallowed, shaking his head. "I trusted you!" he's voice breaking.

"We tried to end it, but..."

"...how long?"

"Does it matter?" asked Megan, tearfully.

"I want to know!" shouted Ben. "I have to know!"

"A few weeks," Matt admitted, quietly.

"Are you sleeping with her?"

Matt looked up and faced Ben, his voice tortured. "Ben, don't make me hurt you any more than I already have!"

"Answer the question!" he raged, tortured.

Matt looked down, hesitated a moment, and then nodded his head slightly, once.

A wretched groan escaped Ben. With a sobbing intake of breath, he said, "After all we've been through...you do this!"

"Ben, I'm truly sorry!" said Matt, upset at his friend's distress.

"_Sorry_!" he spat. "Sorry, won't make it better, Matt! We were friends!"

Ben moved unexpectedly, and it was all Matt could do, _not_ to defend himself, against Ben's fist. Blood gushed from his nose, and he just had time to duck the second fist. Megan screamed, as Matt moved around the table, to keep some distance between Ben and himself.

"Ben, I know I deserve this, but you know, you'll end up the loser. Don't make me hurt you, more than I have already."

Ben's answer was to shove the table to one side, the bowl of fruit and utensils, scattering to all corners of the kitchen. He lunged at Matt, with a flying kick that Matt once more refused to defend himself against. Megan screamed at Ben to let Matt go as the fight developed.

Because of his training and dhampir instincts, Matt was the better fighter.

He tried his best to give Ben a fairer advantage, but in the end, he knew that he would seriously hurt Ben or worse, kill him.

The kitchen was a shambles. Matt managed to push Ben off him, taking the few seconds, to gain a breath. Ben sprawled on his back, but was back on his feet in an instance.

Matt was struggling with Ben, when he grunted, a curious expression on his face. He felt a sharp pain in his side, and something scrape against his ribs. Almost immediately, he felt something warm, trickle down to the waistband of his jeans.

As he slowly sank to his knees, he raised his fingers, and stared dumbly at the blood on his fingers, still unaware that it was his own.

Megan screamed as the blood spread across the front of his T-shirt, and ran to his side, as he fall face down.

Ben looked down, horrified at the bloodied knife he still held. He didn't remember picking it up. He looked from the knife to Megan, sobbing over Matt's body, then back to the knife. With a cry of disgust, he threw the knife down and ran from the cottage.

Sebastian coming up the path was just in time to move out of the way.

"Ben?" he asked, both shocked and surprised to see him. He had time to see the bloodied, bruised and swollen face, before Ben was out of sight.

Sebastian watched after him a second longer and the looked towards the cottage. Dropping his brief case, he ran to the cottage.

He barely took notice of the disarray, as he took in the scene. Megan was sobbing, over Matt, blood, oozed from his between his fingers, as he clutched at his stomach. Nearby was a bloodied knife.

Sebastian rushed to Matt's side and quickly took in the situation. Matt's face was pale, and bloody, and clearly in pain. He gently lifted the hand covering the wound, and fresh blood flowed with the release of pressure. He clamped his hands over the stab wound, and barked, "Megan, call 911, _now!_"


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Sebastian sat with his head in his hands, as he waited apprehensively for news on Matthew's condition. Megan waited with head bowed, close by, but nearer to the nurse's station. She'd been crying.

With an impatient sigh, Sebastian rose to his feet, going over to her. He placed both on hands on her shoulders and half turning her to face him he said, "Why don't you go home, Megan? I'll call if there's any news."

She shook her head. "I want to stay here," she said, wiping at her eyes. "I want to be here when there's news."

"It could be hours yet," he paused, and looked down before speaking again. "What were they fighting about Megan? They've been friends, since childhood."

Megan shook her head, biting her lower lip. "I don't know," she lied, not yet willing to admit what had happened. "All I know is that Matt's got to be alright! He's _has_ _to_!"

/

"Sebastian, I came as soon as I heard. Is there any news?" Barnabas asked anxiously, as he hurried to Sebastian side.

"Barnabas!" said Sebastian, surprised to see him so soon, after dusk. "How did you find out?"

"I heard about it in the village. What happened?"

"All I've managed to find out is that Ben and Matthew had a fight, and Ben apparently stabbed Matt."

"Ben and Matthew fought?" asked Barnabas in a surprised tone. "Any idea what the fight was over?"

"None," said Sebastian shaking his head. "The only person that knows is Megan, and she won't say anything."

"Megan?" he questioned, still surprised. "What has she got to do with this?"

"No idea. You know as much as the rest of us."

Concerned, Barnabas stared at the Englishman. "How is he, really, Sebastian?"

Sebastian shook his head. "I won't lie, Barnabas, it's serious. He's still in surgery. They'll tell us more, once they know themselves."

Barnabas sighed, "When will this nightmare ever end?" he asked desperately. "He's got to be alright, Sebastian!" he said, wringing his hands.

"He's strong, and healthy, Barnabas. He'll make it," he tried to reassure him.

"He's got to, Sebastian!" fretted Barnabas, distraught. He swallowed and looked around, "Where is Megan?" he asked, looking around for her.

"She went for some air. I suggested she go home, but she insisted on staying."

"I must talk to her, find out what happened."

"Here she is now," said Sebastian, seeing her heading in their direction. "I'll see if I can find out any more information, and leave you two alone to talk."

Barnabas waited until Sebastian had gone, before he approached Megan.

"Megan," he said gently, "what happened at the cottage?"

She gasped on hearing his voice, and she turned to face him, with fear in her eyes. She swallowed nervously. "Mr. Collins!"

"Please, don't be afraid, Megan," he said drawing closer to her. "I won't hurt you. I only want to know what happened, between Matthew and Ben.

They've always been so close."

She shook her head, her eyes widening. Obviously frightened of him, despite he's assurances.

"Megan, I just want to know what happened. Sebastian mentioned that you were there," Barnabas urged, placing a hand on her arm.

She tensed at his touch, and Barnabas immediately let her go. "I'm sorry," he said looking down. "I didn't mean to frighten you, Megan."

She scuttled past him before he could do anything to stop her, and hurried to the safety of the nurses' station.

Barnabas closed his eyes, a sense of frustration swept over him. He's hand tightened on the sliver head of his cane.

"Matthew!" he breathed in prayer. "Matthew!"

/

Sebastian came over to him. "Any luck with Megan?"

Barnabas staring out the window at the darkness turned slowly to face him.

He shook his head, and looked down at the floor. "She was too afraid to speak to me." He turned from the window, and sat on the bench directly under it. "Why don 't they tell us anything!" he worried. "Why all this waiting!"

He rose quickly to his feet, pacing the floor, agitated. The memory of doing exactly the same thing the night Matthew had been born came to mind, and he forced himself to sit down again.

"If he dies..." Barnabas began, in a tortured voice.

"He's not going to die, Barnabas," snapped Sebastian. Then shook his head. "I'm sorry."

"I can't lose him, Sebastian," said Barnabas, with emotion. "I won't lose some one else I love to the curse! I won't! He must live!"

"He's a fighter, Barnabas," Sebastian tried to console him. "And no news is good news so they say. Look, if it'll help, I'll talk to Megan."

He left Barnabas, and went in search of Megan, who had wandered further down the corridor trying to keep some distance between herself and Barnabas. She looked up with a hint of fear at the footstep behind her, and sighed with relief, when she realised that it was Sebastian.

"Thought I was Mr. Collins?" he asked, seeing her visibly relax. When she nodded, he put an arm around her shoulder. "I want you to see something," he said, steering her in the direction he'd just come from.

"Look over there, and tell me what you see," he suggested. Megan looked in the direction he'd indicated, and saw Barnabas, seated, head in hands, obviously worried about Matthew. "Now think carefully, before you answer," continued Sebastian. "Do you see a vampire, or a father worried for his son?"

Megan thought about it, and then relaxed, as she looked up at Sebastian. "He is worried for Matt isn't he?"

"As we all are. See him for what he is, and who he is. Matthew's father. All he wants is to understand what happened between Ben and Matt this afternoon. What harm can it do, talking to him? Think about it."

/

"Mr. Collins?" asked Megan, nervously.

Barnabas looked up his hazel eyes, haunted looking, his pale face etched with worry. "What is it, Megan?"

"They were fighting...because of me," she said, bowing her head, her hands fidgeted nervously.

Barnabas waited patiently for her to continue, knowing what it had taken for her to approach him. Whatever he said or did, he mustn't frighten her.

"You see, Matt and I...having been seeing each other," she said in a rush. She looked up, expecting to see reprove in those hazel eyes, and instead saw only understanding. "We were going to tell him," she went on, "but he found out, on his own..."

Barnabas rose slowly to his feet, and Megan took a hasty step back.

Barnabas smiled gently. "Thank you for being honest, Megan," he said gratefully. "I do appreciate it."

Sebastian came over to them. "I've just gotten word; Matthew's out of surgery. We can see him in half an hour."

"That will give me just enough time," said Barnabas, heading towards the entrance.

"Where are you going?" Sebastian wanted to know.

"To see Ben."


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Sebastian left Matthew's room, just as Barnabas returned from his confrontation with Ben. Sebastian watched him closely as he drew nearer.

"How is he?" asked Barnabas in greeting.

Sebastian glanced over his shoulder, briefly. "He's stabilised. The stab wound was pretty deep. They've had to give him a blood transfusion."

"Blood transfusion!" gasped Barnabas, shocked. "I thought you said that as a Slayer he couldn't be harmed!"

With a guiding hand on his shoulder, Sebastian drew him away from Matt's room. "Barnabas, he has accelerated healing powers, but he can still die from a loss of blood as much as anyone else. It'll take time for him to recover, but he will. I'm more concerned about the transfusions."

Barnabas frowned. "Why should they be of any concern?"

"I don't know what kind of an effect a blood transfusion will have on him. You must admit, Barnabas, he's not the typical Slayer."

"You mean, this could be the start of what Julia and I have feared would happen? That he could suffer the same affliction?"

"I don't know, Barnabas, but it's something we'll have to consider. Once he's back on his feet, I'll have to monitor him more closely. He already resents them. I don't know how to explain it to him."

Barnabas closed his eyes, briefly. "How much more can he take?" he muttered. "I want to see him," he said looking up at the Watcher again.

"Of course," agreed the Englishman. "But, he's still groggy from the surgery."

/

Barnabas entered the room, quietly. Matthew lay with his head facing away from the door, but turned as the door, closed. Barnabas waited nervously, for his son's reaction.

Matthew's face was pale, and shone with a thin film of sweat. Monitors and tubes surrounded him and the bed. He stared with drug induced, confusion at his visitor. He's eyes narrowed, as he tried to focus. He licked his dry lips before croaking, "Dad?"

Barnabas moved closer to the bed, hope lighting his face. "Yes, Matthew, it's your father."

The teenager nodded, and a tired smile, touched his lips as he turned away, his eyes closing, muttering something under his breath, that Barnabas couldn't catch.

He pulled a chair closer to the bed. "Matthew," he said, gently. "Matthew, can you hear me?" asked Barnabas, alarmed, as he's son, didn't respond. "Matthew!"

"Tired," he whispered again, turning to face Barnabas once more. He winced, and raised a hand weakly to his head. It fell to the bed, without making its destination. "...Ben..." he muttered.

"What about Ben?" questioned Barnabas, looking suddenly guilty.

"...not his fault. Megan..." Matthew drifted away again, exhausted.

Barnabas stared helplessly at his son. He grasped his son's hand in his, willing him the strength to recover. "Matthew," he said quietly. "I know we haven't been close over the last few years. And I know that you wish I weren't, but I'm still your father, and I love you," he paused, head bowed, as he tried to calm his worries and fears. "I couldn't bear it, if I lost you now. You must get well, Matthew!" he pleaded, desperately. "I wish your mother were here now, to see the fine young man you've grown into. She'd be so proud of you...as I am," he said, raising his son's hand, which he still held in both hands, and bowed his head until they rested on his forehead. "Julia," he breathed, emptiness sweeping over him. The void she had left in his life, more pronounced than ever before. He missed her so! He was entirely to blame. He couldn't face losing Matt too.

/

Four days later, Matt was out of danger, and showing signs of making a fast and complete recovery, surprising his doctors.

When Sebastian entered his hospital room, Matt was sitting up and staring moodily out the window, at the bright sun.

Matt turned, as the door closed, his face still sullen. "He's closer, isn't he?" was all he asked.

Sebastian simply nodded. There was no need for him to elaborate; they'd both dreamed of Petofi again.

"How long?"

"It's hard to say, specifically. The dreams, are a kind of warning, that evil is close by. You must be careful, Matthew."

Matthew turned to face the window again, remaining silent. "How's Megan?" he asked after a time.

"She's waiting outside. She told us, about you and her."

Matt turned from the window, and faced the older man. "You don't approve," he stated.

"I didn't say that," Sebastian defended himself.

"You didn't have to."

"You're old enough to make your own decisions. The question is, can you live with the choice you've made?"

"I tried for months not feel the way I do about her. I'm not proud of what I've done. We intended to tell Ben, but he found out by himself. I don't blame Ben for what happened."

"Generous of you, considering that he could have killed you."

"It was an accident. How do you expect him to react?"

"I seem to have had said much the same thing to you..." began Sebastian, and then stopped. With a quick smile, he added. "I promised no lectures. I'll send Megan in. She's anxious to see you."

/

Twenty-fours later, Matt discharged himself out of the hospital much to several doctor's disapproval.

Sebastian fussed and fretted over him, until finally he left and headed to the ruined Cannery for some peace and quite.

Megan found him there an hour later, staring at the wreckage of _The Julia Hoffman_.

"Matt what happened!" she asked completely shocked.

"Can't you guess?" he asked morosely. "Ben…he had to have done this. He knew how much restoring the Fleet meant to me. It's he way of getting even."

"And stabbing you wasn't even enough!" said Megan angrily, looking around once more at the devastation. All the work Matt had done, the hours he had spent restoring and fixing had all come to nothing. "You can fix this, can't you?" she asked after several minutes. "Start over?"

Matt shook his head. "I don't know, if it's worth it, anymore. Ben always said it was pointless. Now he's proven it."

As they left the wreckage behind, a shadow took form, a strong scent filling the air. With invisible hands, part of the ruined boat, baring the name _Julia Hoffman_, rose into the air. Soft sobbing echoed around the empty building, followed by the sighing of Matthew's name.

/

The sound of a car's engine, caught Barnabas off guard, followed by the front doors being roughly opened, as someone barged their way into his home.

Barnabas was on his feet in an instance, no longer accustomed to receiving visitors. He's apprehension faded on seeing Matthew standing between the pillars of the drawing room.

"Matthew, I wasn't expecting you up and around so soon," he greeted, taking a few steps towards his son.

Matthew's dark eyes began to blaze, as he said, "No, I guess you weren't."

A sense of unease made Barnabas pause. "I don't understand," he said, frowning. "Has something happened, that I'm not aware of?"

"Oh, you're aware of it, I'm sure," said Matt, furiously, moving a step closer.

"Matthew, I don't know what you're talk..." before he could finish, Matt was across the room, and had taken hold of Barnabas' suit jacket. "I'm talking about Ben!" he said giving him a quick shake.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

"What about him?" asked Barnabas, trying to free himself from his son's grip. To Matt, he didn't sound too concerned. His fury grew as he stared at his father, ignoring the pain in his head.

"You attacked him!" yelled Matt, furiously; pulling his father closer to him, their noses almost touched. "Don't you even think of denying it this time! I saw the marks!"

"I have no intention of denying it," Barnabas began, but got no further, as with a cry of outrage, Matthew, whirled him around and, almost picking him up bodily against the wall.

Before he had chance to work out, what exactly had happened, Barnabas found himself suddenly thrust into a full-blown fight with his son. "You just couldn't let it go, could you!" spat Matt furiously as he lashed out at his father again and again. "Have you any idea of the trouble you've caused!

Sebastian took that moment to enter the Old House. He was in time to see Barnabas, fall back against the wall, and see the flash of pain cross his face.

"Matthew!" he cried, completely shocked at the sight before him. He found it hard to believe that only days before, he and Barnabas had been discussing whether or not Matthew would be fit or strong enough to deal with Petofi when he finally announced his presence. That question, it seemed, had been answered.

Barnabas' back hit the wall, and he winced. Somehow, he knew that this time, apart from the time he had forced him to wait for the sunrise, that Matthew had really hurt him. He tried to move, as he did so a stabbing pain in his ribs, and back, made him pause. As Matthew lashed out at him again, he just had time, to move the pain excruciating. Over the years, he had always thought that he and Matthew would come to blows over Julia. They had come as close as they possible could, but it had never been like this.

Matthew was relentless, and Barnabas found himself, backed up into a corner, unable to properly defend himself. The pain in his side intensified, as Matthew found the spot, and Barnabas yelped, sliding down to the floor. "Matthew, please!" cried Barnabas trying to get away from him. "I did it for you!"

"I don't remember asking you to do anything!" yelled Matt, fist raised.

Sebastian caught him by the wrist. "That's enough, Matthew!" he said, his grey eyes, blazing. Matt broke free. "Ben was my friend! I don't need your interference!"

"I thought you were going die, Matthew!" Barnabas cried. "I thought I was going to lose you!"

Matthew lowered his fist, taken completely by surprise. For a moment he was silent, as he took in what his father had said. Then, with a cry of frustration, he grabbed his father, by his suit jacket and pulled him to his feet. Barnabas winced, at the pain, in his side, protested. "It was an accident! You didn't have to attack him!" yelled Matt furiously.

Sebastian vainly tried to separate the two. "Matthew, let him go!"

Perfume permeated the air, and the air chilled even more. Barnabas and Matthew became aware of it at the same time. "Julia!" whispered Barnabas, hoarsely.

"Mother!" Matthew croaked, letting his father go, as he looked wildly about the room.

Slowly, a form tried to take shape between the pillars. It seemed to almost coalesce, but at the last second, it couldn't quite make it. Matthew stepped forward, his eyes never moving from the shape that was trying to form. The scent became stronger, and he recognised it as the same scent he'd thought he'd smelt weeks earlier, after burning his father's hand.

"Mother!" he said again, louder this time. "Don't go!"

Sebastian helped Barnabas to his feet. He was obviously in pain. Matthew's renewed interest in his training had obviously been beneficial, but mused Sebastian to himself, beneficial to whom? He could sympathise with Barnabas. After all, he, Sebastian had had protective padding to ward against the power of Matt's blows. Barnabas had had nothing.

Again, the presence tried to take shape, this time close to the bookcase.

For a second it seemed that it would fail again, but at the last second, it solidified, and Julia Collins' ghostly form, stood by the bookcase.

Matthew's throat worked, but no sound came out. Julia smiled sadly at him, from her place by the bookcase, looking as he had last seen her, ten years before. "Mother!" he finally managed, in hoarse voice.

Barnabas, leaning against Sebastian, for support, straightened with an effort. Disbelief in his hazel eyes, as he looked upon his wife for the first time in ten years. "Julia," he said in a voice barely above a whisper. "My dearest Julia."

Words couldn't describe how he felt at that moment, seeing her, as she was the last time he had seen her. The loneliness of the last ten years, never seemed heavier, than it did, on seeing her now. He took a step toward her, and when she turned to face him, he suddenly couldn't think of a word to say.

She reached out a hand, and he grasped it as though it were a lifeline.

"Julia, I'm...so sorry," he said, his voice holding the depths of his pain.

"I know why you did what you did, Barnabas," she said. "But right now, there are more pressing matters to talk about." She turned to face her son. She reached out a hand, and he eagerly took it.

"Matthew, there are many things that you are still unaware of. But one thing you must understand, now, and that it that your father is not your enemy. He is far more aware than you, of what he did that night. It was because he loved me that what happened did. I bare him no ill will, and neither should you. It is not your fault that you feel this way, and in time you will learn the truth. Count Petofi is the enemy you must face, with your father and Sebastian's help. You must learn to accept, and eventually forgive. He is not to blame, for my death, Matthew."

"How can you say that?" asked Matthew, overwhelmed by his mother's presence. "How am I supposed to just accept that he killed you, right in front of me!"

"Hard as it is for you to believe his actions, saved my life. Once Petofi is defeated, you will see the truth. Trust me, Matthew, and trust your father."

"Mother!" he whispered, almost in tears.

She reached out, and touched his cheek. "You have always been a good boy, Matthew," said Julia, as she slowly began to fade. "I know that you will do the right thing."

"Mother, please don't go!" he implored her, taking a step closer to the place she had been. "_Mom_!" he cried desperately.

"Julia!" said Barnabas at the same time as Matt spoke, taking a step closer too. Reaching out towards her. "Julia, please!"

"This is not goodbye," she said, as she faded completely.

Barnabas bowed his head, remembering another time, when Sarah's ghost had done the same thing. The same feelings, swept over him, threatening to drown him.

"No!" murmured Matt, his features contorting in despair and grief. He stared at the spot she had stood, and then hung his head.

"Matthew," began Barnabas, gently, reaching out to him, knowing the feelings he must be feeling.

"Don't," he said, turning to face his father, his eyes sparkling with tears. "I want to be alone," he said, turning away hiding the tears that he knew would fall, and left the Old House.

"Matt!" Sebastian called after him, but Barnabas held a restraining hand on his arm. "Let him go."

The Watcher turned to face him. "Barnabas," he began then shrugged. "I'm sorry," he said, finally, feeling useless.

"It doesn't matter," said Barnabas, sadly. He watched after his son, his expression veiled. "Even after what Julia has said, I doubt I will ever earn his forgiveness. I can not forgive myself, so why should I expect him to?" He turned to face his friend, then looked down at the floor. "I'm not sure if he's forgiveness is enough, anymore," he added.

"I don't understand."

With a sigh Barnabas faced the Englishman, his voice never sounding so defeated, so without hope before this. "I mean, Sebastian, that I'm tired. I've lived too long, and I'm tired. I'm tired of being as I am, of the way things are with Matthew. He's forgiveness isn't enough. I miss her, Sebastian. And I want to be with her, again. More than anything, I want to be with Julia, again."

"But Barnabas," replied Sebastian, "Only Matthew's forgiveness..."

But Barnabas shook his head. "I will not be talked out of it Sebastian. I've made up my mind."

"At least wait, until Petofi has been defeated," he tried to persuade him. "Matthew can't so this without you. You heard what Julia said!"

"Do you honestly think that Petofi can be defeated? He's done enough to my family, Sebastian. I'm tired of fighting."

"I would have thought that would be precisely why you would fight. He is responsible for Matthew, and he's responsible for Julia's death! Not to mention the rest of the family! That alone should be reason enough!"

"Go after Matthew; comfort him," said Barnabas, firmly.

"Barnabas, please, listen to me first," he said, as Barnabas was about to interrupt. "Wait until Petofi's defeated. If nothing changes with Matthew, then, I promise to give you peace. I will do what I must, to reunite you with Julia."

Barnabas turned to him; both hope and doubt warred on his face. He'd heard the promise of release too often, to take it to heart. "You will do, this?" he asked, the hope tingeing his words after all.

"On my oath as a Watcher, Barnabas. If Matt will not do it, then I shall. Just wait, Barnabas, before you decided on anything."

"Go and find Matt," he said after a few minutes.

Sebastian stared at him doubtfully. "Will I see you tomorrow evening?"

Barnabas inclined his head slightly; and Sebastian, breathed a sigh of relief.

/

He found Matt, not far from the car. The teenager didn't turn as he approached, but wiped savagely at his eyes.

"Matt, are you all right?" he asked, concerned.

Matt nodded, and heaved a watery sigh. "How can she do it, Sebastian?" he asked, still sounding upset. "How can she forgive him!"

"She loved him very much when she was alive. She usually forgive him, for everything."

"What don't I know, Sebastian?" he asked, turning to face him finally. "What truth is she talking about? I saw what he did to her! What more is there to know?"

Sebastian took a few minutes before he answered. Finally he said, "I am willing to tell you, as much as I can, but ultimately only Barnabas can tell you the complete truth." He looked at Matt intensely. "If you would be willing to listen, this time."

Matt turned away, with a slight shake of his head. "I miss her, Sebastian!" he finally sobbed. "I miss her so much!"

Sebastian reached out to him, and Matt allowed himself to be drawn close.

Sebastian had been expecting this outpouring of grief, for some time. His grief and frustration had been building over a number of years, and now finally the dam had broken. Matthew sobbed for his dead mother, finally bringing a sense of release. Sebastian held him close, soothing him, as he done when he'd been a frightened and confused child. Neither would admit it, but Sebastian knew that Barnabas and Matthew were very much alike, in more ways than one.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Megan was waiting for them, when they returned from the Old House. For once, the sight of her didn't bring a smile to his face. As Matt entered the house, Sebastian pulled her to one side, and explained about the fight he had had with Barnabas. Matt's subdued mood continued for the rest of the evening, and Sebastian guessed that he was taking his mother's words to heart.

Several hours later, after Megan had gone, Sebastian tried to talk to him, but Matt silenced him with a glance, then headed to his bedroom. With a sigh, Sebastian let him go, and after scanning a number of books, found the one he wanted and began to read.

/

Matthew stirred uneasily, as the nightmare continued. In his dream, Petofi laughed insanely, as he held up the grotesque thing that was his hand. His scarred face filled with mirth, as his one malevolent eye glittered.

The dream changed, to the night he had witnessed his father, snapping his mother's neck, and he moaned, moving restlessly. Again it changed, as Barnabas advanced towards him, mouth agape, his fangs exposed. It switched to Petofi and his maniacal laughter, Barnabas, strangling Julia, then back to Petofi. Petofi reached out towards him, with both hands outstretched, Matt tried to scream, but the scene changed once more, and this time it was Petofi strangling his mother.

"_Mom_!" he cried, sitting up, sweat soaking his body. His body shook with the effects of the dream; a sense of fear descending over him. He tried to make sense of what he had dreamt, and what his mother had said. It made his head spin. Still upset, and trying to accept his mother's ghostly appearance, he bowed his head. "Oh God, Mom!" he whispered. "What happened to you!"

/

For a change, Matthew was waiting for Sebastian, the next morning.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow, in surprise, but said nothing, as he busied himself making his morning coffee.

"Tell me about Petofi," said Matt, after five minutes, of watching his guardian.

Sebastian took a sip of his coffee before he spoke. Looking over the rim of his mug, he asked, "What do you want to know?"

"Everything."

Again, Sebastian took his time in answering. After taking another sip of his coffee, he looked keenly at Matt. "Are you prepared to listen, Matthew? Because I'm not going to waste my time, if you're not."

Matt turned away from him, bowing his head. "You had the dream..."

"Yes, I did. But that still doesn't answer my question. If you really want to know the truth, then, you must accept that I might not say anything you might like."

Matt faced him again. "Like Barnabas' innocence?"

"In a nutshell. And right now, I still doubt your sincerity."

"My mother said I don't know everything," said Matt, slowly.

"Barnabas and Quentin, myself included, have been telling you that for years, Matthew. It took your mother's spirit to convince you?"

"Kind of," he admitted, reluctantly. His expression became haunted looking, his eyes clouding. "And that last dream...he makes my skin crawl...and that _Hand_!"

Sebastian looked at him, with a new understanding; and hope. "Can you accept, that Barnabas, could be partially innocent? That he was desperate, and desperate men do desperate things?"

"My mother can," he said, and then looked up at him. "She's the victim in this, remember? Help me to understand, Sebastian!" he implored. "What don't I know!"

"I repeat the same thing, I said last night; for the complete truth, you must hear it from Barnabas. I can only tell you so much. Are you prepared to do that? And accept that Barnabas isn't guilty of half of the things he's being accused of?"

Again, Matthew grew silent for several minutes, and Sebastian realised that for once, he was actually thinking about it. Perhaps, Julia's ghostly appearance had done some good, after all. It seemed that all he'd ever wanted was his mother's assurance.

"Alright," said Matt finally. "Tell me what you can."

Sebastian nodded. "Very well. I've been doing some research on Petofi that I suggest you read, after I tell you what I can. It will help prepare you, for the confrontation that is bound to come. It will also mean more hours of training...think Megan would mind sharing you for a while?" Sebastian added, with a smile.

Mention of Megan brought a smile to his still pale face. "I'll talk to her about it. I should call her, and apologise for last night, I was a bit of a heel."

"She'll understand, I'm sure," the older man agreed. "Now, to work."

"Are you serious?" questioned Matt, after Sebastian had finished telling him what he could.

"Quite," said Sebastian, firmly. "Turning you against your father, and making Barnabas responsible for your mother's death, Petofi's revenge was complete."

"I don't remember, ever meeting him," said Matt, deep in thought. "And Quentin didn't mention any of this. Even though he's father must have mentioned it to him."

"Perhaps he felt, your father, or myself, had already mentioned it," Sebastian alibi. "Read this, it should any questions you may have," he added, handing him a book. "Of course, I'd be willing to answer any more questions you have."

Matthew took the book, and flicked through the pages. After a few seconds, he looked up. "If he's so afraid of gypsies, and only one can hold the ultimate power over him, how can I possibly defeat him?"

"You're a Slayer, Matthew. Besides, you'll have some extra help. And I plan to use his fear of gypsies against him. Something he won't be expecting."

"You make it sound so easy," complained Matt, looking down at the book again.

"What is it, Matthew?" asked Sebastian, watching him closely. "There's something else on your mind."

"I was just thinking...about Barnabas," he said quietly. "He's been saying for weeks that my mother's presence was at the Old House, and I didn't believe him. The morning after I destroyed Julian...on the way back from the Old House, I thought I smelt her perfume on the early morning breeze. I thought I imagined it."

"The night he give you the booklet from your mother's trust fund, I thought I'd smelt it then. I wasn't sure at the time, and when you didn't mention it, I just assumed, I was imagining it. I guess the unexpected trust fund she set up added to not noticing. When you were in hospital, after Ben stabbed you...he never left your side."

He paused; knowing that Matt's willingness to listen was still fragile. "I'm not defending him, nor do I agree with what he did to Ben, after what happened, but I can understand his reasons. He was extremely worried and concerned about you. As he saw it, he'd lost a wife, and was about to lose a son, too."

"I guess I can understand that," he said, grudgingly, standing up. "I need some time to think this over, Sebastian. It's still too soon to even think of Barnabas, as completely innocent in all of this."

"Time isn't something we have a lot of, Matt. We don't know when Petofi will strike, or what disguise he will be using. By all means, think over what I've told you, but stay alert and be prepared for anything."

He watched as Matt left the cottage, thanking Julia once more, for what finally seemed to be a breakthrough. But had it come too late? Would Petofi's hold over him reassert itself, before he could fully understand the truth? Would Petofi be victorious once more, or would he finally be defeated?

He prayed for the latter. Barnabas and Matthew had both suffered too much at Petofi's hands, and Sebastian vowed to do everything he could to see that didn't happen. Once more, vowing to put his life on the line, in protecting what was left of the Collins family. He'd failed ten years ago; he was determined not to fail this time.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Matt found his footsteps had led him to his mother's grave. He stood, staring at the gravestone, deep in thought. He had a lot to think about, he mused. He'd always felt closer to her, when he was here. Whenever he'd been troubled, it had always been to here that he felt drawn. He'd felt foolish, talking to her, telling her his thoughts, about his day, as if she had been there.

Now, he realised, after last night, she had been. She had always been there. He just hadn't known it. He realised, with a feeling of loss, that he had come here, subconsciously, hoping to see her again.

Disappointed, he looked up from the grave, the sky showing the first signs of growing dusk. How long had he been standing here? Surely, it hadn't been hours? He looked around desperately for some sign of her nearby. "Mom!" he called out suddenly. "I don't know what to do! Help me! Tell me what to do! Mom!"

For reasons of her own, Julia remained silent. He hung his head again. He raised it almost instantly as he's sharp hearing caught the sound of footsteps. He dark eyes searched the darkness, and he relaxed as he recognised Megan.

"I thought I might find you here," she said, stopping a few feet away from him.

He turned back to the grave, wondering if she had heard him, calling to his mother. Then found he didn't much care if she had. "I needed to think," he said, in explanation.

"You don't have to tell me that," she said closing the distance between them. "I've known you for far too long for you to explain anything. It can't have been easy," she went on, her tone changing slightly. "Seeing your father, murder your mother."

He stiffened at her words, and she moved away from him, suddenly afraid. He turned to look at her, his dark eyes, unreadable. "Matt?" she said, her sudden fear of him, tingeing her voice. "What is it?"

His strange mood and expression lifted, as he turned back to the grave.

"Nothing, it doesn't matter." He sighed, still not looking at her, he said, "I meant to call you earlier, to apologise for last night," he turned to face her again, continuing, "I wasn't the best of company."

"Sebastian, mentioned that you had a fight with Barnabas. I understand, Matt."

"It wasn't just the fight," he said with a frown. "Sebastian told me things, that I'm not sure I fully understand." With a change of tone he asked, "Do you believe in ghosts?"

"The question is, do you?"

"If I said, I saw the ghost of my mother, would you believe me?" he asked instead.

She was silent for a few minutes. "Have you seen her ghost?"

In answer he captured her hand with his, and began walking towards the exit. "Forget I asked. It was a stupid question," he said, staring stonily ahead of him.

"Where are we going?" she asked, running to keep up with him.

/

Sebastian opened the door, not bothering to hide the relief he felt on seeing Barnabas on his doorstep. Barnabas looked around as he entered the cottage; clearly disappointed that Matthew wasn't at home.

"He went for a walk late this afternoon," Sebastian explained. "Barnabas, we dreamed of Petofi again. I have the feeling that he's closer."

"Have you any indication of when he will make his presence known?"

Sebastian shook his head. "None. Of all the dreams we've experienced, this is the worst. Its affect on Matt is proof enough. With what happened last night and then the dream...He wanted to know more about Petofi."

Barnabas looked at the Englishman, hopeful. "Do you think...?"

"I don't know, Barnabas. It's too soon to tell. Seeing Julia, last night...he's confused; he doesn't know what to think, or what to believe. I told him what I could. It's up to him now. If we could just be certain that Petofi's hold on him is weakening!"

"All we can do is wait," said Barnabas, "and hope."

Sebastian faced him. "That's not all, Barnabas," he said, his tone suggesting the seriousness of what he had to say. "I said he is willing to listen for now, Barnabas. We mustn't get our hopes up, just yet. Petofi still has the upper hand in all of this. Once he is out of the way, then maybe he'll be willing to listen to you. I've been doing some research, and the best way, to get him to listen, is to tell him the complete truth. Tell him everything, Barnabas."

Barnabas looked at him aghast. "Sebastian!"

"It's the only way, he can truly understand what happened that night. And what it cost you, to do it."

Barnabas shook his head. "I don't know," he fretted. "If he knew the real truth about me, it could drive him further away!"

"It could also be the turning the point. It's a chance worth taking."

Barnabas drew himself up with dignity. "He's my son, Sebastian, and I am on the verge of losing him forever. I'm not prepared to take that chance, I'm sorry."

/

Matt stopped before the ruin that had once been Collinwood. Trees and other shrubs had reclaimed the land over the years. The few crumbling walls that remained where overgrown, with ivy and other creepers.

"Matt why have you brought me here?" asked Megan repressing a shudder. Matt had always avoided the place.

"When I was a kid, I always thought, Collinwood would stand forever. That it would outlast us all. It was here, that my mother met Barnabas. She fell in love with him here, and later married him here. But it was never really a happy place. Listening to the legends and stories, you'd wonder why they never left. My mother said once, a Collins could never be truly happy here, but they would never be truly happy anywhere else, either. That, no matter where they went a Collins would be drawn here, and that's why Barnabas came from England. The ancestral home, calling him back."

He stared about him, sadly. "My mother was right; it does draw you back," he said quietly. "Even if you wish it didn't. There's no escaping your heritage...or destiny." He turned to her, suddenly. Taking both her hands in his, he said earnestly, "Megan, you know what I am; and who I am. I have a...feeling...that something is going to happen...and I'm not sure I can deal with it, alone."

Megan's hands gripped his thumbs and squeezed tightly. "You're not alone, Matt!" she insisted. "You have me, and you have Sebastian!"

He gathered her closer to him, and she wrapped her arms around him, resting her head on his chest. She could feel his heart, beating rapidly, against his ribs. She realised that he was afraid, and the knowledge frightened her. In all the years they had known each other, she had never known him to be afraid of anything. Instinctively she drew him closer to him, and when she looked up into his face, his lips captured hers.

/

The thin figure paused before the Collinsport Inn, taking his time to reacquaint himself with just being here. Somehow, he knew that this would be his final visit to this place. He wasn't sure he was sorry about it. It was only they way he left, that give him concern.

"Your misplaced sentimentality, is beginning to bore me," whispered a voice behind him. If he'd been a normal man, the unexpected sound would have frightened him. But he wasn't a normal man. "You will secure us a room," the hoarse, voice continued. "There will be no mistakes this time," he added, menace in his voice.

The man bowed his head slightly, showing both respect and servitude.

Nothing much had changed, and yet everything was different.

"There will be no mistakes, this time," he agreed and then continued towards the Inn.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Sebastian, rising earlier than normal, headed towards the kitchen, stifling a yawn half-heartedly. He'd been grateful that the previous night's sleep had been dreamless, finally granting both himself and Matt a sound sleep for once. His thoughts of dreams and Petofi were interrupted as he entered the kitchen, to find Megan, dressed only in a T-shirt, which from it's size, belonged to Matt, pottering about, busily making two coffees. It was obvious that she had stayed the night.

She turned, at the unexpected sound, and gasped on seeing Sebastian, standing staring at her, in surprise. "Megan?" he asked, rising an eyebrow slightly.

She coloured slightly, under his gaze, and tugged at the hem of the T-shirt, self-consciously. "I...I was just...excuse me," she said, clearly embarrassed, and hurried past him, still tugging at the hem of the shirt, she'd borrowed from Matt.

Sebastian stared after her for a few minutes, and then shaking his head, a ghost of a smile on his face, finished making the coffee, adding an extra cup for himself.

When Matt entered the kitchen half an hour later, Sebastian was reading the morning paper. He looked up from his reading, as Matt busied himself making a fresh coffee.

"Matt," Sebastian started to say, but Matt jumped in before he could say anything else. "I don't want a lecture, this early in the morning, Sebastian."

"I think, Matthew, that when I have an unexpected guest in the house, I am entitled to have something to say about it," said Sebastian quietly. He turned his grey eyes to the teenager. "It would have saved a lot of embarrassment for Megan and myself, if I had known that she was staying overnight. Megan especially. The poor girl was mortified."

"You don't approve of Megan and I..."

"I don't approve of the way you've gone about this," he stated. "If we're to have a houseguest, I'd prefer to know about it, then discovering them in the kitchen!"

"I'm almost nineteen, Sebastian, I'm not a kid anymore!"

"You're forgetting that this is my house, Matthew. I wouldn't object if you had said she was staying over."

"I see," said Matt, defensively.

"I know you're not a child, Matt, but you're not quite an adult either," said Sebastian, less angry now. "All I ask, is that if she stays over, let me know in advance. It'd save embarrassment all around, especially for Megan. I take it, this isn't the first time, she's stayed the night?"

Matt shook his head. "No, it's not," he said quietly. He bit his lip and looked down at the floor. "I'm sorry, I should have said she was staying. She was pretty embarrassed about you finding her here."

"I'm glad that you agree," then Sebastian smiled. "I was fairly wild when I was younger; got up to all sorts of things."

"You were never a teenager," Matt joked, sensing that Sebastian was no longer really angry with him. The lecture was over.

"Don't doubt it," Sebastian laughed. "Then, I learned of my Watcher's heritage, and everything changed," he said, his tone changing.

Matt looked at him curiously. Something in his tone suggested more than he had admitted.

"Something happened, didn't it?" he asked. "Other than finding out you were a Watcher?"

Sebastian became thoughtful, and sadness crept into his eyes. He swallowed before he spoke, his voice edged with a deep sorrow. "If I'd known then, what it meant to be a Watcher, then perhaps, I'd have had the knowledge to prevent what happened."

Matt stared at him with new interest, caught up in what Sebastian was saying. "What happened?"

The faraway look was still in Sebastian's eyes, as he looked into the past of his youth. Abruptly, he shook his head. "Some things aren't meant to be talked about, Matt," he said, his voice edged with a deep pain. He rose to his feet, grabbing the morning paper, as he did so.

Matt watched after him, puzzled. Whatever had happened, it had affected him deeply. He wondered briefly what it could be. It occurred to him, that Sebastian had few friends, even after ten years. And counting Barnabas, as a friend, hadn't made him popular. And yet, Sebastian had always seemed content. Now, Matt knew that wasn't the case; there was something in his past that made him hold back. Suddenly Matt felt a deep kinship towards him. A bond existed between them, because of their relationship as Watcher/Slayer. Now, he felt closer on a deeper level, that no birthright could match.

/

Later that afternoon, he met Megan at the Coffee shop. As they waited for their order, Matt told her about his talk with Sebastian. Including his hint that something had happened in his youth. "He was like a different person. Certainly not the Sebastian, I know."

"You know, Sebastian hardly ever talks about his life in England, before he came here to be your Watcher," Megan mused. "Like he has some deep dark secret, he's afraid someone will find out."

"Well, whatever it is, it's affected him deeply, that's for sure. I have an idea of how he feels."

As they were leaving half an hour later, Ben happened to enter. The three of them stood, staring at each other, awkwardly. This had been the first time since Matt had gone to see him, shortly after leaving hospital, and discovering the puncture wounds on his throat. He was relieved that Barnabas "visit" hadn't done any permanent damage.

"Ben," Matt began, not sure of how to proceed.

Ben stared at him, as though he were something unpleasant. "We have nothing to say, Matt," he said, getting straight to the point. He looked at Megan, who looked down, unable to face him. "I asked you if there was someone else, and you said no..."

Megan finally faced him. "There wasn't, then," she tried to explain, but Ben cut her off. "I don't believe you. Well, I hope you're happy, you're welcome to each other."

"Ben, we're sorry..."Matt tried again.

"Just stay away from me, Matthew!" Ben growled. "I'm not interested in sorry!"

In the foyer, the three teenagers were unaware that they were being watched. The watcher stared with particular interest in Matthew. As if sensing the penetrating stare, Matt turned, as Ben walked away, scanning the foyer with a frown on his face.

"Matt, what is it?" asked Megan catching his mood.

Matt continued to look around the foyer, but could see no one watching them. "Can't you feel it?" he asked, still looking around. "Someone watching?"

Megan made her own quick search around the foyer but could see nothing out of place. She shrugged. "If there was someone watching, they've gone now."

"No," said Matt thoughtful, still sensing something wrong. "Whoever it is, they're still here, I can feel them. And they're not alone."


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Night had fallen, when a knock came on the hotel room door. The occupant standing silently by the window smiled. "Come!" he ordered.

He remained standing by the window, as his visitor did as he was ordered, and waited silently, for the other man to acknowledge his presence.

Finally he turned and faced him. "I need information, and quickly," he said, getting straight to the point. "Find out everything you can on a Benjamin Marshall."

The servant bowed respectfully. "As you wish," he said, keeping his head bent. "Will you require anything else?"

Petofi turned back to the window, gazing out into the night. "My revenge on Barnabas Collins has worked far better than I ever expected," he mused, thoughtfully. "That will suffice, for now," he added, half turning to face his servant. "You may go."

Again, the servant bowed and left the room.

/

"Are you certain of this?" Sebastian asked, putting aside the book he had been reading.

"Megan was there, when I felt it," stated Matt, including Megan in his glance.

"I didn't feel anything," said Megan, in answer to his questioning look. "Nor did I see anyone. But that doesn't mean that no one wasn't there. If Matt said he felt something, I believe him."

"So do I," Sebastian said, rising to his feet. He walked over to the door, and grabbed his coat. "Matt we have work to do. I know you both had plans tonight, but this cannot wait. I'll drive up to the Old House, and let Barnabas know that Petofi may have finally arrived. Matt, I know that you're search came up blank, but I want you to search again, for that vampire. You may have better luck, now. Whether it's Dane or not, it needs to be destroyed."

Matt turned to Megan, putting both hands on her arms, he said, "Megan, I'm sorry, I'll make it up to you, I promise, but I need to do this."

She nodded, understanding his reasons. He'd been so different since the fight with Ben, and then with Barnabas. And then there was the renewed closeness with Sebastian. "I'll come with..."

"No!" Matt insisted, sharply, his grip tightening slightly. "I want you to stay here! If there is another vampire around, I don't want you in harms way."

Sebastian bit his lip, looking down, in an effort to hide the smile he knew was on his face. Once more, Matthew had unknowingly shown another similarity to his father.

"Matt, I've been on a patrol with you before! I'd rather take my chances out there, then wait here!" she insisted.

"I said no, Megan!" Matt insisted, more sharply. "This isn't open to a debate. I don't know what'll happen if and when I find Dane, and if you're with me, I'll be too worried about you. At least if you stay here, I'll know you're safe. Please Megan, don't make this any harder than it is."

"The other night, when we were at Collinwood, you said that something was going to happen, and that you weren't sure if you could deal with it alone...now that's exactly what you want to do!"

He embraced her. "I know I'm not alone," he said. "But, I'd rather you were safe. If I can't find Dane, then I'll came back for you, I promise." He kissed her, briefly, before following Sebastian out to the car.

/

Three hours later, Sebastian and Matthew met up at the Old House. Barnabas looked expectantly towards Matt, but remained where he was, not sure of how his son might react. This was their first meeting since Julia's spirit had appeared to them both.

"Any luck?" asked the Watcher, asking the question that had been on both their minds.

Matt stuffed his hands into his jacket, and shook his head. "Nope."

Barnabas' shoulders slumped slightly. "Are you even sure that it is Petofi?" he asked.

"No," Sebastian admitted. "But Matt and I have been having dreams almost nightly. Last night was the first night we didn't. Then, today he senses something in the Inn. It's too much of a coincidence. I made a point of checking the guest list; there's no Lord Ravensbrook registered there, so he's not using that name again. We know that there is another vampire hidden around here some place. The question is; why can't Matt sense him?"

Matt had been watching his father closely, while Sebastian spoke. He still wasn't prepared to forgive him, just yet, despite his mother's words. But, after what Sebastian had told him of Petofi, he was at least willing to listen. But that could wait for now. He had an elusive vampire to find.

He stepped closer to his father, without giving the pain in his head a second thought. Barnabas, aware of too many confrontations with him, took a precautionary step back.

"I'm not here to fight with you, Barnabas. Or to point blame," he said, quietly. He paused, then took a deep breath, before saying. "I have no right to ask, but, I have an idea, that will help find Dane, if he is in fact, a vampire. I need your help."

Sebastian turned to him in surprise, but said nothing. Nor did Barnabas.

Matthew returned their gaze, unflinching, but aware, of the monumental moment. In ten years, he had never asked Barnabas for anything, much less for help.

Barnabas stared down at his hands, briefly, then faced his son. "You have every right, Matthew. What do you want me to do?"

"Use your own powers to summon, this vampire," stated Matt. "Try and bring him out of hiding."

Barnabas shook his head slightly. "That would only work if I was the one responsible. And it could also represent a danger to me, by making him aware of my existence."

"Right now, proving there's another vampire around, is the only protection you have," said Matt, feeling his old anger returning. " And there is a chance..."

"I am not responsible for Dane, Matthew," interjected Barnabas. "And my concern over making this vampire aware of my existence, is a valid one."

"He's right," said Sebastian, trying to defuse the situation.

Matt glared at him, before the Watcher could continue. "Why doesn't that surprise me?" he asked bitterly. "You always agree with him."

"If you'll let me explain, then you'd understand," complained West. "Its something I remember, my father reading once, long before I learned I was destined to be a Watcher. It was about a young boy, who bothered and pestered a neighbour, who had no wife and no children. One Halloween, he went to this neighbour, wearing a werewolf mask that seemed so life like, in the hopes of scaring the man. He duly knocked on the door, and it was opened. He frightened the man, or so he thought, and, laughing took the mask off. The man looked at him, and asked him why there was only ever one robin, pictured on a Christmas card. The boy replied he didn't know. The man explained that two robins couldn't co-exist, and that they'd fight to the death. That was why only one robin would be found, on a Christmas card.  
>As he finished telling the story, he's features began to change. The boy had gone there, in the guise of a werewolf...unaware that the neighbour was a werewolf himself. One robin; one werewolf; one vampire. I recall it give me nightmares for weeks."<p>

"And you believe it?" asked Matt. "A child's horror story?"

"Some stories have an element of truth in them. Have you ever seen two robins together?" he asked, eyebrows raised.

"All right, I'll find it myself," said Matt, heading towards the door.

"Wait!" called Barnabas, taking a step forward. "I will try, but..."

"I'll make sure it's destroyed, before it finds out where you are," promised Matt, turning back.

Barnabas walked over to the bay window, and stared out into the night, concentrating.

/

"Well?" asked Petofi, as his servant entered the room. "What have you found out?"

"Something very interesting."

"I shall be the judge of that!"

"Forgive me," said the servant, bowing his head.

"Continue," said Petofi in a bored voice.

"Ben and Matthew have always been friends. But that changed recently. They ended up fighting, and Ben is reputed to have stabbed Matthew. It seems Ben was paid a very special visit, by Barnabas Collins, for the deed."

"Interesting indeed!" smiled Petofi lopsided. His one eye glittered menacingly. He turned to face the other man. "You know what to do."


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

The servant hesitated. Petofi, aware that he's order hadn't been carried out, turned to face him, his one eye hold such malice, that the other man looked down.

"Must I repeat myself, yet again?" he asked, holding up his petrified hand. "Or punish?"

"Forgive me, my Lord," he began, and then stopped, an attitude of listening in his manner. "What is it?" demanded Petofi.

His servant remained silent, his head tilting to one side, as through trying to hear something that was just out of hearing range. He frowned, and then, issued a low, menacing snarl, revealing the tips of his fangs.

His eyes almost seemed to glow red, and his hands clenched into fists. "_Barnabas_!" he snarled, a sibilant hiss.

/

With a cry of agony, Barnabas clutched at his head, and stumbled backwards.

Sebastian caught him, steadying him.

"What happened?" he asked. He wasn't sure he much liked the paler than usual skin tone.

Barnabas took his time in answering. "He is aware of my presence," he said, turning back towards the windows, his sharp eyesight searching the darkness, uneasily.

"Is he close by?" Matt wanted to know, for now unconcerned that his father might be in some kind of danger.

Barnabas shook his head. "I couldn't tell. As soon as he became aware of me, the contact was broken."

Matt muttered an oath under his breath, and slammed a fist into his palm.

"We're no further forward than we were months ago!"

"At least we know there _is_ another vampire!" Sebastian admonished him. "And at the cost of your father's safety! You know what you must do...before this vampire comes looking for him."

"If I'd had some useful information..."

"You are duty bound, Matthew, to protect your father, now that the presence of a second vampire is established," said Sebastian, stepping closer to him. "You asked for his help, and he give it. Honour his request."

/

"So, he is aware that you are here," said Petofi, closing his Hand into a fist. He's laugh was menacing. "I never knew Barnabas Collins to be that foolish. He must be desperate; being the scapegoat for one of your attacks must becoming extremely tiresome."

The vampire looked down at the floor, hiding his expression. But Petofi knew. He always knew.

"You're letting sentimentally get in the way again," intoned Petofi in a dangerous tone. "That was your mistake the last time, if I recall."

"But Julian..."

"Is a casualty of war," whispered Petofi advancing to his reluctant servant. "Just as Ben Marshall, is a casualty of war. Barnabas Collins is another problem for now, and he will be left alone. Let him look out for himself, he is aware of the danger he is in because of his misguided actions. You know what you are to do, and you will do it now. Do not make me repeat myself again. It is such a waste of energy."

/

The next two days, Matt spent in the gym, working out with Sebastian.

Including the blocking techniques, Matt now used armed combat, with various weapons. Finally, being well schooled in karate, they finished off with a mini tournament. Sebastian successfully blocked one fist, but failed, rather painfully for him, to block the other, and with a gasp, he sank to the matt, clutching his right side, and trying not to breathe.

Matt, realising that he had really hurt Sebastian knelt by his side. "I'm really sorry," he said, putting a hand on his shoulder, while Sebastian whistled asthmatically for air, wincing with each breath he took.

Gulping in air, Sebastian waved him off. "It's...what...I'm...training you for."

"You need the hospital?" he asked, genuinely concerned for the older man. "I get carried away sometimes, forget that you can't take the hits like I can."

Again, Sebastian shook his head. "I'll be fine," he grinned, but it felt more like a grimace. He started to get up, couldn't quite manage it, without Matt's help. "You know," he said between gulps of air, "I don't think there's ever been a better trained Slayer, than you," he said with some pride.

Matt looked down embarrassed. "I seriously doubt that," he said. "Besides, you're biased, considering it's you that's training me."

"No, I mean it. I've had a few Slayers in my time...you're a natural. Even as a child you were always quick at picking things up."

A muffled pounding came through from the front of the cottage, making both of them exchange curious looks. "Matt! Sebastian!" came Megan's voice, muffled and concerned. "Let me in!"

Matt wasted no time, as he hurried to the front of the cottage. Sebastian shook his head, marvelling that even after a serious workout, Matt could still appear refreshed. He painfully made his way to the front of the cottage, just as the two teenagers pulled apart from a kiss of greeting.

Immediately Megan rushed over to him, alarm clearly written on her face.

"Sebastian, thank God you're here! My father and Luke Marshall are heading here, wanting to talk to Matt! It's Ben; he's been missing form home for two days, and they think Barnabas has something to do with it!" she said in a rush.

He grabbed her by her arms, and said, "Slow down! Now start again, from the beginning."

She took a deep breath, and Matt came closer his face clouded. "What's happened to Ben?"

"Remember when we met him at the Coffee shop that night, and you felt someone watching? Well, no one's seen him since. Everyone knows about the fight and Barnabas going to see him. They think that Barnabas returned and finished him off."

"But that's impossible, we were with Barnabas, all night!" said Matt defensively. "We didn't leave him until dawn..."

A furious pounding came at the door, followed by a furious bellow. "Open up West! We want to talk to you, and that halfling!"

Matt and Megan exchanged looks that said only two things; Gil Phillips.

Sebastian had barely opened the door, when Gil and Luke barged their way in. Gil stared at his daughter, as though she was something unpleasant. "I thought I'd find you here," he sneered. "In his arms!" He glared at Matthew with contempt. "I knew you were trouble, the very first time I set eyes on you. A crime against humanity, you should have been drowned at birth!"

Matthew's anger boiled to the surface. He faced his accuser, almost the same height; their noses were only inches apart. His dark eyes blazed with fury and hate. "Its people like you that should be drowned at birth! I have done nothing wrong! I'm nothing like Barnabas Collins, and I never will be! I broke all ties with him years ago!"

"You are still his flesh and blood," Gil Phillips sneered. "No matter how much you deny it." He turned to Megan, and looked her up and down, with an air of disgust. She faced her father, defiantly. "It pains me, that I raised such an ungrateful wretch of a daughter. As long as you lay with him, girl, you can expect nothing from me."

Matt grabbed him roughly by the lapels of his jacket. He pulled Phillips towards him, despite his bulk.

"Take that back!" he hissed, between clenched teeth. "Take that back, right now!"

Gil Phillips paled, a film of sweat broke out over his forehead and upper lip. "Get this...this _thing_ off of me!" he cried alarmed.

No one moved to his defence. Matt's eyes narrowed and grew darker.

"Apologise to her, _now_!" he barked.

Megan was at his elbow, tears coursing down her cheeks. "Let him go, Matt! He's not worth it!"

He continued to hold him, furious at his treatment of his own daughter.

"Please, Matthew!" sobbed Megan. Slowly, his vicelike grip loosened, and reluctantly, he let Philips go.

Gil wasted no time in putting some distance between himself, and the Collins boy. Despite his name change, everyone would always think of him as "Collins."

Luke watched the exchange without comment. He had his own concerns with the Collinses. And up until Ben and Matt had had their fight over Megan, he had been willing to give Matt the benefit of the doubt; the occupants of the Old house had always seemed normal to him, and he had had no objections with his son's friendship. Now, of course, that had changed. He knew where he's loyalties lie, and it wasn't with Matt or Barnabas.

"Where is my son?" he asked, getting straight to the point.

Matt stared at Luke, both concerned, and puzzled. "Mr. Marshall," he said politely, "I haven't seen him, since we met in the Coffee shop two days ago. He was fine then, if still hurt by..." he trailed off. There was no need to mention the reasons, everyone was aware by now of what had happened, and why.

Luke glanced at Megan, who suddenly found the floor, extremely interesting. It was one thing to defy her own father, but Ben's was another matter.

"You know that Barnabas blamed Ben, don't you?" asked Luke, sharply.

"Yes," said Matt quietly, refusing to look away. "And when I found out, I confronted him about it. I don't blame Ben for what happened, and I told Barnabas as much. He said he'd keep away from him."

"And you took him at his word!" snapped Marshall. "You took a vampire at his word! My son has been missing for two days! No one has seen him since you saw him at the Coffee shop, and Barnabas is to blame!"

"But that's impossible!" spluttered Matt. "I was will him until dawn. There's no way that he could be responsible for Ben disappearing!"

"You would say that!" sneered Gil, feeling brave, now that Matt wasn't holding him to ransom.

"Because it's true. I was up at the Old House with him all night. He never once left my sight."

"Can you prove it?"

"Yes he can," said Megan, "because I was with him, and so was Sebastian. Mr. Collins isn't responsible for this."

"Just like that stranger a few months back. He says he wasn't responsible for him, either," Phillips accused. "I'm warning you, halfling; if that boy turns up dead or harmed in any other way, you and that vampire will have more trouble than you can handle. And it will end with a stake through his heart."


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N** Many thnaks as always for the reviews. I hope you continue to read and enjoy the story.

Chapter 26

When they had left, Matt grabbed his jacket, and headed towards the door.

"Where do you think you're going?" asked Sebastian, following after him.

"To find Ben!" said Matt determinedly. "And I know where he'll be; Petofi!"

"Are you mad?" cried Sebastian. "Confronting Petofi now will be a big mistake! This is just what he wants you to do!"

"I won't sit by and let him die, if he's hasn't already!" fumed Matt, wrenching free. Sebastian gasped, as he pulled the side, Matt had hit earlier. "He was my friend!"

"Matthew I know you feel bad, but rushing off to confront Petofi now is not the time. Rushing in isn't the answer! Matt, we have every intention of a confrontation, but we have to prepare first! Just give me a few hours...we need to warn Barnabas, too. Chances are they'll be watching the Old House."

"Ben could die, if we wait!" argued Matt, desperately. "If anything happens to him, it'll be my fault, can't you see that?"

"Matthew," said Sebastian, taking a deep breath. "Believe me, I do understand. But if you go blundering in, unprepared, it'll end up being worse for Ben. Wait, form a plan first. Just a few hours, Matt."

He hesitated; the need to act or wait warred in him. Then, he recalled the day, a few weeks back, Sebastian saying that it had been because of him, that his mother had been placed in danger. It was exactly the same thing over again. If he rushed in, Ben would be in even more danger; but if he didn't...Torn, he didn't know which way to turn.

"It'll be dusk soon," said Sebastian, sensing the indecision. "Give me until dusk, and then we'll both look for Ben."

Matt's shoulders slumped. "Alright, I'll wait. But I promise you, Sebastian, if anything happens to him, I'm blaming you."

/

Full night had fallen, when Barnabas suddenly materialised out of thin air, for a second completely startling Sebastian.

Recovering from his fright, he stared at the vampire with a sense of alarm. It could only mean trouble, if Barnabas felt that this was the only way for him to safely appear.

"You've heard," said Sebastian, a statement, not a question.

"They've converged on the Old House, demanding the release of Ben Marshall," explained Barnabas. "I take it, they've been here?"

"Yes, this afternoon. They were quite...cruel," replied Sebastian, quietly, remembering Gil Phillips remarks. "I was going to come up to the Old House, and warn you," he continued. "But they...made it difficult."

"How is he?" asked Barnabas tentatively, concerned.

"He's in his room," said West. "He won't admit it, but their words stung."

"He knows I had nothing to do with Ben..?" Barnabas asked, uncertainly.

"Of course, in fact he was the first to defend you over it. It helped that he was up at the Old House, the night he disappeared. Are you safe up there, Barnabas?" he asked concerned. "If they're massing again…it may be safer if you moved your coffin to a more secured spot."

"I tend to agree with you," he admitted, readily, remembering the last time this had happened, only too well. "I don't know how much longer I'll be safe where I am. And with this other vampire yet to make a move..." he paused, frowning. Then relaxed. "May I see Matthew?" he asked again unsure that it might be a good idea. Matthew could so easily turn against him.

"I think you should," Sebastian agreed readily. "He's been asking about Petofi again. I think it might be a good idea, if you could talk to him. He's ready to go off and storm the Inn, looking for him. He's convinced that he has Ben hidden away somewhere."

"It wouldn't surprise me," said Barnabas, darkly, remembering the night, Julia had gone missing. He could sympathise with Luke Marshall. If only things were different.

/

Matt was stretched out on his bed, when Barnabas knocked on his door.

"Matthew? May I come in?"

He wiped savagely at his eyes, and sat up, cross-legged, before answering.

Barnabas slowly opened the door, still not sure of what to expect. He closed the door gently behind him, but made no attempt to enter the room further.

"You've heard?" asked Matt, quietly, not looking at his father.

"Yes, and I'm sorry. You and Ben were always close..."

"I wanted to looked for him, when they left...but Sebastian stopped me..."

"He had he's reasons, I'm sure," said Barnabas, in an understanding tone. Then cautiously, he added, "What they said, they're wrong; ignorant fools..."

Matt stood up, and Barnabas took a wary step back, forgetting that the door was behind him, but Matt seemed unconcerned...for the moment.

"They're right about one thing," he said looking at his father intently. "If Ben is found dead, or harmed, there will be trouble." He's gaze grew in intensity. "What has Petofi got against you?" he asked suddenly. "Sebastian says he can't tell me everything. That ultimately I have to hear from you. So," he said taking a step closer to the vampire. "Tell me what you know. And I mean everything. Ben's life could be at stake."

Barnabas thought carefully on what he was about to say. "What I have to say will be hard to understand. Your mother was always better at explaining, than I am," he said, watching his son carefully.

Matt looked down, saying nothing. Barnabas took it as encouragement for him to continue. "I first met Petofi, in 1897, when I went back in time to prevent David from being possessed by an evil spirit."

Matt looked up. "Time travel?" he asked incredulously. "Are you serious?"

"I said this would be hard for you to understand," said Barnabas, patiently. "But it is possible, if you know the secret. I Ching is the oldest known form of mysticism and divination, and the most dangerous and least understood. It was with these wands, that I was able to travel back to 1897, in the hopes of changing the events that led up to David's possession, and save his life."

"Obviously, you succeeded," said Matt, breaking into the narrative. "But what about Petofi?"

"Petofi came to Collinwood, looking for his petrified Hand. It had been reputed to have certain powers that could be used for Good or Evil. After he had recovered his Hand, the gypsies who he had wronged came looking for him. They were determined to regain the Hand, because it had been said, that if he regained the Hand, he would live forever. He discovered that I was from the future, and he devised a plan, to use me to reach the future, and so escape the gypsies, that he so feared. He's plans didn't quite work out, and he blamed me."

Barnabas knew that it was a condensed version of what had happened. He hoped it would be enough for his son. But he had to protect himself, and Quentin. He might get away with it, if Matt didn't ask any awkward questions. He waited, nervously, for his son's next words.

"And that was part of why he helped Dane kidnap mother," mused Matt, after a time, and Barnabas felt relief course through him. Perhaps it would be enough after all. He opened his mouth to add something further, then closed it without saying anything.

Glass shattered as the windows on the French doors caved inwards, and Barnabas automatically grabbed his son; shielding him, form the glass.

Sebastian burst into the room, without bothering to knock.

"Barnabas we need to get you out of here!" he shouted, stating the obvious. "I think it'll be better if we can hide your coffin here, for now. Returning to the Old House, at daybreak could be a bad idea. I know a few shortcuts that will get us there and back. Matt are you coming?"

Matt shook himself off, as Barnabas released him. "I'll stay here, and keep them occupied, while you and my father, leave by the back way."

Barnabas and Sebastian stared at each other, and then at Matt, who didn't seem aware of his slip. Deciding not to draw his attention to it, they left him, standing by the ruined French doors, disappearing into the night.

He waited until they'd left before picking his way carefully through the broken glass that littered his bedroom floor, picked up his jacket, and disappeared into the night himself.

/

Petofi turned at the furious pounding on his room door, at first curious and then with a growing sense of anger at being disturbed so late at night.

Before he could answer it, the door burst open, admitting a furious Matt.

He stared at the rotund man from his dream, for now too determined and angry to deal with the cause of the latest outrage, to feel the fear and disgust.

"What have you done to Ben!" he demanded, advancing into the room, his eyes blazing.

Few things surprised Petofi, but he felt surprise now, as the youth advanced further into the room. "You have the advantage, Sir," he bluffed, spreading his hands. "As you can see I am quite alone."

Matt took a step closer, was about to say something when pain filled his head. With a cry at the intensity and its unexpected-ness he fell to his knees. Tears of pain blurred his vision, but he could just make put a pair of sneakered feet and jean clad legs, advancing towards him.


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

Matt felt himself being pulled roughly to his feet. The pain in his head grew; he'd never known it to be this bad, even around his father. For now, his senses temporarily dulled, he was easily overcome, and his captor, pulled his arm roughly behind his back, leaving him almost defenceless.

"Forgive me, my Lord, for not being here, sooner," said a voice he barely recognised. He felt a stir of relief; at least it wasn't Ben, whoever this vampire might be.

Petofi grinned, or tried to, as much as the scarring on his face would allow. Matt felt the fear of dreams return; realising too late Sebastian's caution to wait until they could form a plan of attack. Had rushing in, already sealed Ben's fate?

"Your arrival couldn't have come at a better time," said Petofi, advancing towards Matt and his servant. "Our foolish young friend isn't quite aware of the blunder he's made."

"I'm not your friend, Petofi!" spat Matt, and winced, as his arm, was tugged, viciously.

"Let me deal with him!" begged the vampire, leaning closer to Matt's throat, fangs bared.

"No!" ordered Petofi. He took a step closer to Matthew. "You know me?" he asked, "how?"

The pain in his head had dulled somewhat, and Matt could find he could think clearly again.

"I've heard enough about you, from Barnabas to know who you are." He's eyes quickly darted around the room. It seemed that there was only the two of them, and right now, they weren't aware of what he was. He quickly formed a plan of escape, centring on a surprise attack.

"Ahh Barnabas Collins! Of course, Matthew," smiled Petofi, menacingly. "I should have remembered. And what else did your father, tell you about me?" he asked, raising his Hand. "Did he tell you of the power I have in this Hand?"

"Enough. I know that it was you who helped kidnap my mother. And you're as responsible for her death, as Barnabas is!"

Petofi bellowed with laughter. "Such spirit!" he said, though his laughter. "So much like your father, my dear boy!" The laughter died, and a cold glint crept into his one eye. "And just as foolish!" he said coldly, balling his Hand into a fist. "You will pay for your mistake, dearly my boy!"

He reached out with his Hand, Matt began struggling, and the vampire that held him tightened his hold on him. His fear increased; his struggles were more than just subterfuge, to lull them into a false sense of security.

He tensed, as the Hand, clamped on his arm. Petofi's grin of satisfaction slowly faded as nothing happened. "What manner of creature, are you?" he whispered, awed. His eye glinted suspiciously, and Matt thought he detected a hint of fear in his voice. The time for him to act had come.

Swiftly, he struck out at the vampire, ducking, he grabbed his arm, and twisted it behind his back. His head throbbed, but he ignored it. He turned to Petofi. "Where is Ben, and what have you done to him, Petofi!" he demanded. He gripped the vampire by the throat, putting just enough pressure on, to subdue him. The vampire understood well enough, and ceased his own struggles for freedom.

"Tell me, or I'll snap his neck like a twig!" threatened Matt. "And believe me, I can do it."

"My Lord!" croaked the vampire, fearfully. He belatedly sensed an enemy in this teenager.

"I have done nothing to Ben," said Petofi truthfully, still stunned by the sudden change of events. "Nor do I know where he is."

"Liar!" yelled, Matt, increasing the pressure on the vampire's throat. "I will find him, Petofi," stated Matt. "And if any harm has come to him, I'll hunt you both down!" He released the vampire, shoving him roughly away from him. The vampire stumbled, picked himself up and turned, advancing on Matt, menacingly. Enemy or not, he would deal with him.

"D-Dane!" stammered Matt, caught off guard. "So, Barnabas was right! He didn't attack Julian!"

"You've just made your last mistake, boy!" hissed Dane, his eyes blazing, as he advanced towards him.

Matt took a defensive stance, and beckoned encouragingly towards Dane.

"Just try it," he said eagerly, as Dane advanced, his dark, brooding eyes, glittered menacingly.

"Stop!" roared Petofi, frightened by this unassuming teenager who wasn't afraid of vampire. Despite his own father being one. He'd been thrust into a nightmare of his own making. Something was badly wrong here.

He knew his power over Matthew Collins wouldn't be absolute, but he hadn't expected anything like this. Again, he wondered why he had been drawn back to Collinsport, only that the power he did have over him had been being to weaken, on it's own by an unseen force, he didn't know. But he would find out. "You will leave him alone, and allow him to leave, unharmed."

Dane turned to face his master. "You're just going to let him walk out of here?" he asked incredulously. "He'll tell Barnabas about seeing me here!"

"He can," agreed Petofi. "But Barnabas is already aware that another vampire exists and that he has placed himself in danger, by that knowledge. But, Matthew also knows that he is being suspected of attacking Julian, and now Ben. He has too much to deal with right now, to worry about you."

"And that's what you wanted isn't it!" spat Matt. "It wasn't enough that you caused him to murder my mother!"

Petofi turned his back on the youth. "You will leave me, or I may have cause to change my mind, and allow Dane to do with you as he will. Laying the blame at Barnabas' feet, of course."

Matt hesitated, considered pushing the situation further. Then decided against it. Too much was against him, alone. And the threat that he may cause something to happen to him, and blame Barnabas was too real to ignore.

He and Sebastian were the only ones that stood between the angry mob that the village was turning into and Barnabas' safety. Hesitating only a moment longer, he turned, and left the Inn.

Petofi watched him head down the main street, before turning to face his servant. "You will find out everything you can, about Matthew Collins. And you will also see to certain events." He turned back to the window and the now deserted street. What was it, that was different about Matthew Collins, and why had the Hand not worked on him? He repressed a shudder that rippled through him. And that concerned him more, than anything else.

/

"Where have you been?" demanded Sebastian when he returned to the cottage. "I thought that mad lot had broken in here, and carted you off!"

Barnabas stared at his son, with some concern. He appeared shaken, and his face pale, as though he were unwell. He stepped closer to his son, showing his concern. "Matthew? What's the matter? You're white as a sheet!"

Matt stared at the two adults. "I went to the Inn," he said quietly.

"Oh no!" groaned Sebastian. "Tell me you didn't!"

Matt offered him a beseeching look. "I had to, Sebastian," he replied, his voice low, and desperate. "I had to find Ben."

"And did you?"

"No," he replied looking down. "But I found the vampire. It's Dane, like you suspected all along. He attacked Julian."

"I knew it" Barnabas cried. "What happened?"

"They held me prisoner, but I fought Dane off, and demanded Petofi release Ben, unharmed. He laughed at me, and said that he could arrange it so that if anything happened to me, Barnabas would be blamed."

Sebastian cringed inwardly at "Barnabas." So, calling him father had merely been a slip after all. "What did he do you?" Sebastian asked.

"The Hand," Matt frowned trying to clear his suddenly muddled thoughts. "He tried the Hand, but nothing happened. I think it frightened him."

Sebastian stared at him curiously. Something wasn't quite right; Barnabas was right, Matthew didn't look well at all. "Here, sit down," ordered Sebastian helping him over to the sofa. He began checking for any hidden injuries, but found none. Not even the mark of Petofi's Hand.

"What's wrong with him?" asked Barnabas from Sebastian's elbow.

"I'm not sure," Sebastian admitted. "It could be some residual after effects from the Hand, or the stabbing. Or..." his voice trailed off, and he rose quickly to his feet. Crossing over to the bureau, unlocked it, taking out a syringe and vial, and a small grey box.

He quickly took a blood sample form Matthew, and then quickly placed the sample in grey box, that smoked with tendrils of dry ice. Then moved away with Barnabas, so that Matt couldn't hear.

"I'll take this up to Wyndcliffe, and get Nick to take a look, tomorrow. It could just be that he's run down; he's been doing a lot of heavy training lately. Even Slayers batteries can wear down."

Barnabas glanced a concerned eye at Matt, leaning back on the sofa, with his eyes closed. He looked so pale; with drawn. "You don't think it's anything to worry about?" He was worried.

"No," Sebastian tried to assure him. "He's probably been doing too much and it's caught up with him. He's had an eventful couple of days. He'll be fine." (_I hope, he thought_) to himself, as he too glanced over at Matt.


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

Matt stirred restlessly, murmuring in his sleep. He's pale face was covered in a thin film of sweat, his eyes moved rapidly, indicating that he was dreaming. Bright sunlight streamed in, and he seemed to flinch away from it.

He opened his eyes slowly, and then smiled somewhat sleepily, as he saw Megan watching him. He rubbed his eyes, and asked, "What are you doing here?"

She pulled the chair closer to the bed. "Sebastian called, asked me to come over and sit with you while he went up to Wyndcliffe. How do you feel?"

"Tired," he said with a yawn, then blinked rapidly. "What time is it?"

"Just after 10. Sebastian said you weren't feeling well, he sounded concerned."

"I'll be all right, don't worry," he said, squinting. He rubbed his eyes, again. The room seemed too bright; more than it would normally, even with the sun shining. He snuggled further under the covers.

"Matt, what's wrong? You seem in pain," asked Megan, concerned.

"It's this light, it's hurting my eyes," he complained. "Too bright."

Megan looked around the room, puzzled. The light level seemed all right to her. "Its just as bright as it always is," she said, turning back to him, but he'd fallen back to sleep.

/

"Nick looked over the blood sample, did his usual tests, and came up mystified. He can't find anything," explained Sebastian, to Barnabas, later that evening. "It's a mystery," he sighed. "He doesn't know what's wrong with him."

"So we still don't know if he's inherited that cell, or gene or whatever it is!" Barnabas sighed. "Does Nick have any idea when he'll know anything conclusive?"

Sebastian shook his head. "He said he'd run more tests when he has time. Megan was with him all day; she said he slept for most of it. In the brief times he was awake, he complained that the light hurt his eyes."

Barnabas closed his eyes. "Classic symptoms of a vampire victim. No energy, sensitivity to daylight... I hoped he'd be spared this. There's enough happened to him over the years, without, being like me."

"It may not come to that, Barnabas," Sebastian tried to placate him. "We don't know what Petofi did to him. He might believe that nothing happened, but what if it has? I'm not ruling out the blood transfusions he had, either. The test then, was inconclusive too."

"Has there been any more news on Ben?" asked Barnabas changing the subject.

"None. I hope they find him, and he's all right. I dread to think what will happen if he turns up dead. For you and for Matt. Petofi must be dealt with and soon. Matt's illness will only work to Petofi's advantage, to cause even more trouble." Sebastian's grey eyes grew colder, and his voice dropped, in his anger. "Conveniently for him," he added. "I wish I knew what he was planning, next."

/

Petofi was sat in a chair, mediating, when Dane entered the room, and waited silently, just behind Petofi's chair. After several minutes, Petofi seemed to become aware of his servant's presence.

"Well, what have you found out?" he asked, in a low voice.

Dane took his question as an invitation to draw closer to his employer.

"There has been resentment in the town, of both Barnabas and Matthew, since the death of Julia Collins. Matthew seems less tolerated than Barnabas. There have been a number of attempts to destroy Barnabas, over the years, but they've failed, mostly due to Matthew, despite his obvious hatred of his father. Which is extremely interesting, my Lord," said Dane, eagerly.

Petofi turned to face him; his eye glittered with interest. "And why is that, my boy?"

"Matthew Collins is a Slayer. A Vampire Slayer."

"So," smiled Petofi, rising to his feet. "The son of Barnabas Collins is a Vampire Slayer." Petofi suddenly bellowed with hearty laughter. "I find that extremely interesting indeed! Barnabas is a vampire and his only son and heir just happens to be a vampire slayer! It could only happen to him! How poetic! And I always thought him an uninteresting child. So that is what is different about him," he mused. Turning to face Dane he asked, "Then why does he permit Barnabas to live, if he is a vampire slayer?"

"Matthew enjoys reminding him of what he did to Julia. There is another; his Watcher, Sebastian West, has ordered Matthew that he isn't to be harmed. Matthew seems to do what he asks, most of the time. Lately though, Matt seems to have mellowed towards Barnabas."

At last, it seemed clear of why he had been drawn back to Collinsport.

The resentment and hatred Matthew felt towards Barnabas had to continue, at all costs. Slowly a plan began to form. "We shall see about that. Listen carefully, because nothing must go wrong. I will make Barnabas and Matthew wish that they had never heard of the name Petofi."

/

"Matt are you sure, you should even be out of bed?" fretted Sebastian, as he watched him walk somewhat unsteadily into the kitchen.

"I'm tired of being in bed," Matt complained as he sank into a chair. "Besides, I feel a little better than I did, three days ago. Whatever's wrong with me, seems to be going."

"The light still hurt your eyes?"

"A little," he admitted. "Can we stop with the twenty questions until I've had something to eat, at least?"

The Watcher smiled, "I'm sorry, Matt. But you've had your father and me, worried. Megan too. She's been here constantly, but you've barely noticed the poor girl."

"Any word on Ben?" he asked hopefully.

"I'm afraid not," said Sebastian, his tone turning serious. "Matt, when you were at the Inn, the other night, did Petofi give any indication of where Dane's coffin is hidden? Or give any explanation of why you haven't been able to sense him?"

"No, just seemed surprised, when I turned on Dane, and when that...that Hand of his didn't work." Matt looked up at him, his dark eyes serious. "The Hand didn't work on my mother, either. Why?"

"No one seems sure exactly. But it seemed that her love for your father had a lot to do with it. No matter how many times Petofi used the Hand; she wouldn't be swayed from her love and devotion to Barnabas. Even Dane realised that in the end. Your mother was fearlessly devoted to him while she was alive, even after all the threats she faced. She was a very remarkable woman."

Matt stared at him, his frowned deepened. "What threats?" he demanded. His gaze, was penetrating.

Sebastian swallowed. "Your father has told you about how he met Petofi, hasn't he?"

Matt nodded, and Sebastian continued. "When your mother followed him into the past, Petofi learned that she came from the future. When she refused to tell him the secret of time travel, he tried to kill her. When he realised that he couldn't, because she wasn't a part of that time, he discovered that he needed a body to travel to the future, and escape the gypsies he feared. That's how your father destroyed his plans, by saving your mother. When Petofi realised that he was from the future also, he thought he could use him instead. Before he found out that it wouldn't work, there was a fire, and Petofi was thought dead. Barnabas found Petofi's glasses, outside the studio Petofi had been using. Petofi couldn't see too well, without his glasses, and so it seemed all too obvious what had happened."

Sebastian knew that it was only partly true, and hoped that it would convince Matt. Barnabas had told him of his version, and he hoped that he's addition wouldn't leave gaping holes.

Barnabas didn't want Matt knowing the full truth about him, fearing that he would lose him altogether. But Sebastian wasn't so sure.

If Barnabas wanted Matt's forgiveness and understanding, then Sebastian felt, telling him the real truth would only help him make sense of that night at the Old House.

Again Matt seemed satisfied, as he went about helping himself to some cereal. The sound of the front door, opening caught their attention and then Megan appeared in the kitchen. It took her a moment to realise that Matt was really up and about, and then she was in his arms.

/

Later that afternoon, while Sebastian was on the phone, a disturbance outside the cottage brought concerned glances from Matt and Megan. They glanced at Sebastian, who hurriedly finished his call.

"Open up, West!" bellowed Gil Phillips. "We have business!"

Megan's glance became concerned, remembering the last time; her father had come demanding entrance. She glanced at Matt, and squeezed his hand, reassuringly. He returned her gesture, and rose unsteadily to his feet.

"Let him in, Sebastian," he said wearily, having an idea what this might be about.

Once again, Sebastian had barely opened the door, when it was burst open and Gil bounded into the room. Pointedly ignoring both Sebastian and his daughter, he advanced across the room, with an agility belying his bulk.

Followed more slowly by Luke Marshall, Ben's father.

"Where are you hiding him, halfling!" he demanded. "Where is the vampire, your father?"

"I have no idea," lied Matt, barely keeping his temper. "And if I did, I certainly wouldn't tell you."

"You have no choice in the matter, halfling. Unless you want to be charged as an accomplice?"

"An accomplice for what?" asked Matt, but he had the sinking feeling he already knew.

Before Gil could utter a word, Luke said, "Ben was found a few hours ago. He's dead."


	29. Chapter 29

**A/N** Many many thanks for the reviews, they are always very much appreciated. Hope you continue to enjoy the story.

Chapter 29

Whatever colour Matt had left in his face, drained away. His eyes widened in disbelief at Gil's words. He stared at him, his expression pleading that it wasn't true. "No," he said, his voice, holding a quiver. "God, no!"

Megan gasped, and clutched at Matt. She stared at her father. "Is he really dead?"

"His body was found by the ruins of Collinwood. It looked like his neck had been broken. Except for the fear on his face." Gil turned back to Matt.

"Your show of concern, doesn't impress me, halfling," he said coldly. "You and her," he said pointing to his daughter, "are as responsible for his death, as that vampire."

"He was my friend!" Matt almost sobbed. "Mr. Phillips, neither of us, wanted to hurt Ben..."

Gil grabbed the front of Matt's t-shirt, and pulled him closer, with a rough jerk. Matt didn't put up any resistance. "Tell me where is your father, the vampire! Answer me!" bellowed Gil, giving him a rough shake.

Sebastian stepped over to the two men. "Enough!" he stated, in his quite way. "Release him, Phillips. He hasn't been well. He's told you he doesn't know anything."

Gil continued to hold onto Matt, as he turned to face the Englishman. "You're in on this too, aren't you?" he asked, turning his anger on Sebastian. "You'll do anything to protect the vampire and his halfling! Well Ben Marshall's blood is on your hands, too!"

Sebastian's face set with determination. His voice dropped even lower, his eyes, the colour of thunderclouds. "You will release Matt, and you will leave my house."

Gil sneered, as he stared at the Watcher fearlessly. "Your time will come," he promised. "After we find the vampire in his lair, and driven a stake through his heart. And I promise you, we will find him."

"Get out!"

Gil turned back to Matt, a look of revulsion on his face. He looked down at his fisted hands, buried deeply in Matt's t-shirt. He quickly released him, and wiped his hands on the arms of his tweed jacket, as though he touched something unclean. Glancing at the three of them in turn, he said, "This isn't over. Not by a long shot."

Matt held on long enough for the two men to leave, before he sank back onto the sofa. "Ben, dead!" he said, in a distraught voice. Megan sat by his side, putting her arms around him. Sebastian came closer, and kneeled down in front of them both.

"Matt," he began, but couldn't think of anything to say.

Tears stood out in his dark eyes, as he looked imploringly at Sebastian.

"He was my friend! I thought...I thought that when..." he looked down, shaking his head. As he wiped savagely at his eyes, his hand shook.

"...If...if...he's...if he's...I couldn't...he can't..." He rose to his feet, putting space between himself and the sofa. "Gil's right; it is all my fault!"

Sebastian rose to his feet also. "That's utter nonsense!" he said, closing the space between them. "What happened between you and Ben, doesn't make you responsible for his death."

"If…if I hadn't...Megan...he'd still be alive..." he uttered a sob. And Sebastian was at his side. "Why do they hate me?" he sobbed. "Why?"

"Because they're ignorant fools, who don't know any better," soothed Sebastian. "You and Megan are not responsible for this. Petofi would have used him, even if you and Megan hadn't discovered each other. You mustn't blame yourselves."

"Petofi!" he spat, as he turned, and headed purposefully to the door. "He's the cause of all this! I'll kill him with my bare hands!"

"Stop right there, Matt," said Sebastian heading after him. "Going after him now, in the state your in, would be walking right into his hands. As painful as this is, you're going to have to wait..."

"Wait! Wait!" he sobbed. "It was waiting that got him killed!"

"And I'm sorry, really I am. But rushing in isn't the answer, either. I promise you, Matt, that we will deal with him. Once we know for sure if Ben is a vampire or not, and the funeral is over. You rushed in once before, and where did it get you, huh?"

Matt's defiance lasted for a few seconds longer, before his face crumpled.

"Ben!" he mourned, closing his eyes. "Ben!"

Sebastian placed a hand on his shoulder. "You want to revenge his death, I understand that," he said gently. "But let's do it right, so that he's death hasn't been in vain."

/

Later that afternoon, Nick Andrews arrived, with his daughter, Jessica in tow. Immediately on seeing Megan, they both formed an instant dislike of each other, both sensing a rival in the other.

"Matt's resting right now," Sebastian, explained, for Nick's benefit. He turned to Megan. "Would you mind seeing how is Megan?" he asked, watching Jessica from the corner of his eye. He saw her scowl, and knew that he'd done the right thing. Jessica had always been fond of Matt, despite being his cousin, and two years younger.

He turned back to Nick, as Megan disappeared quickly to Matt's room, and Jessica, her scowl deepening, headed over towards the bookcase, and began browsing through the books. "Have you been able to analyse the blood sample, any further?" he asked, in a low, conspiratorial tone.

"Yes," said Nick, also keeping his voice low. He sighed before he continued. "You're not going to like what I'm about to tell you."

Sebastian groaned, and shook his head. "It's what Barnabas and Julia feared, isn't it? He's changing."

"That's just it," said Nick, with an air of puzzlement. "The abnormal cell is evident, but he's fighting it all the way. I don't understand it. Why now?"

"Could the transfusions have anything to do with it? Or Petofi - he used the Hand, when he was at the Inn, the other night. It's since then, that he's complained of not feeling well."

"Who knows?" sighed Nick. "That man is capable of anything it seems. Keep an eye on Matt. Let me know if the situation changes."

/

"Your Uncle Nick, and Jessica are here," said Megan, sitting down at the foot of the bed.

Matt groaned. "What does he want now?" he moaned. "Another useless blood test no doubt."

Megan looked down at her clasped hands. "Jessie wasn't too pleased on seeing me here. And the look she give me, when Sebastian, asked me to come tell you..."

"She's just a kid, Megan," said Matt, sitting up. "And my cousin."

"She doesn't see it that way."

Matt moved over on the bed, and indicated that she moved up next to him.

She did and he put his arm around her. "And I love you," he said seriously, looking into her eyes. "And she can't change that." Her lips found his, tongues met, as the kiss grew deeper, insistent. When they came up for air, he held her to him, needing to feel her close to him, as a sudden feeling that he might lose her, swept over him.

"Why don't you come to Clearwater?" suggested Nick, when Matt had made an appreance in the living room. Jessica immediately went to his side, and when he sat down on the sofa, made it a point to sit next to him, forcing Megan to another chair. Jessica threw her a triumphant look, as she locked arms with Matt.

Matt looking uncomfortable, withdrew his arms from hers, rose to his feet, and pointedly sat next to Megan, on the arm of the chair.

"I have too much to do here," he said. "With Petofi and Dane back in town, I'm needed here. I have to destroy Dane, and deal with Petofi, before I go anywhere. Besides, I really don't want to leave Megan. Not with the way things are now." He added, looking down at her, with a wink.

"Well that's easy, she can come visit too," said Nick. "Once you've dealt with Dane and Petofi, Carolyn and I would love to have you." He continued, not seeing the furious look he received from his daughter.

"I want to attend Ben's funeral, as well," he added quietly. "I need to know if..." he trailed off and looked down at his hands. Megan put a hand on top of his, and he grasped it gratefully.

"Do you think that's a wise thing to do?" asked Sebastian. "The way some people feel about this whole mess?"

Matt looked up defiantly. "I have to, he was my friend! I have to know! And if the likes of Gil Phillips don't like it, then they can go to Hell!"


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

Matt watched the gathered group of mourners, as they waited in small groups, talking amongst themselves.

He recognised Luke Marshall, standing over to the right, talking with two other people, he didn't know, but took them to be relatives anyway.

He had found out about the service for Ben, by chance. The locals had been more tight-lipped than normal; people stopped talking whenever they caught sight of him, pointedly crossing the street to a safer distance, if he happened by. Others talked loudly of their dislike and opinions, knowing that he could hear every word, as was their intention. Others yet added cat calling to the furtive glances and accusing stares.

Sebastian had again, expressed his doubts that Matt's intended attendance was a wise thing to do. He'd argued that if Ben were a vampire, then Megan would be one of the first people he attacked, because of his past relationship with her.

He hoped more than he'd ever hoped for anything in his life, that Ben wasn't a vampire. Sebastian had offered to help, knowing that he couldn't face destroying his friend; but he knew that he had to.

Ben deserved a better fate. Dane would pay for what he had done, both to his mother and to Ben.

The group began moving towards the church, for the beginning of the service, and Matt, moved closer. Suddenly, a hand clamped him on the shoulder, and he instinctively turned, to face his would be attacker. His recent illness had seemed to make him slower, for his assailant seemed prepared for such a move, and brought his arm, behind his back, twisting it sharply.

"You have no right to be here!" hissed a voice, in his ear. His heart sank, as he recognised Gil Phillips. "This is a private service!"

"I came to say good bye to my friend!" hissed back Matt, trying to free himself.

"What's going on?" demanded a voice, as the commotion stopped several of those gathered. One of them, was Luke.

"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded, looking from one the other.

"We have a trespasser," said Gil, frog marching Matt, forward. "I thought I saw someone spying, and I was right!"

"I wasn't spying!" insisted Matt, struggling. What was wrong with him! He felt weak as a kitten. He looked up from underneath the baseball cap he had recently begun wearing, to face Ben's father. "I came for Ben, Mr. Marshall," he explained, his voice edged with grief. "I don't mean to cause offence. I just wanted to pay my last respects to Ben. He was my friend."

Luke was silent for a few minutes, and then he looked at Gil. "Let him go, Gil," he said quietly. "Come, Matthew, join us," he said, indicating the gathering.

"Are you mad!" gushed Gil. "This halfling..."

"This _boy_, was my son's friend, and he is welcome to join us, if he wishes." He looked at Matthew, a moment, then added, "he's grief is genuine enough. Enough of this, the service is about to start."

/

Matt stood nervously on the stoop, hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his football jacket, and head bowed. From inside, his sharp hearing picked out the shuffling footsteps approaching the door. His heart beat that little bit faster. He had no reason to worry, did he?

The door opened a crack and the creased features of an old woman peered out at him. He turned to face her apprehensively, and felt a surge of relief, when the countenance smiled, closed the door, a moment, as the chain was drawn back, and then opened in greeting.

"Matthew, child!" greeted Bea Phillips, with a sad smile.

"Am I welcome?" he asked, his nervousness showing in his voice.

"Welcome? Bless you, of course you are," she said, indicating that he enter.

"I wasn't sure, with all that's happened lately," he said, entering the house. Bea quickly closed the door, putting the chain back on, before turning to face him.

"You are always welcome here, Matthew," she said. "And let know one ever tell you otherwise. Poor child," she went on drawing him into a hug. "You and Ben were always so close. I'm truly sorry for you."

Matt felt a burning in the back of his throat, at her words. She released him, then taking is face in both hands, she said, "Look at you, child! So pale!"

He managed a bleak smile. "I'm alright, Miss Phillips. Despite everything."

He paused a moment and then asked, "Is Megan here, by any chance?"

Bea sighed, and turned, headed towards the kitchen, Matt following her.

"Yes, she's been worried about you. Mentioned that that no good brother of mine, has been causing trouble for you."

As they neared the kitchen, Megan appeared. Bea took it as her cue to bustle about, making tea.

One look at his pale face was enough to tell her the news wasn't good. "Oh no!" she whispered. "No!"

He embraced her. "I'm so sorry," he said, his breath warm against her neck and ear. He held her tightly to him, the feeling of losing her, crushed down on him. "Be careful, at night," he said, drawing away from her, a moment. "At least, until..."

"Matt, I'm afraid," she admitted, looking up at him. "Why can't it be like it used to be? Why are all these things happening?"

"Once I've...dealt with Ben...Dane and Petofi will wish they'd never heard of Collinsport or the Collins family."

"Poor Ben," mourned Megan. "He didn't deserve any of this. No one did."

"Do you have any regrets?" asked Matt, cautiously. "About...us?"

She looked up into his dark, penetrating eyes. "I have a few," she said solemnly. Matt gasped sharply. "That we didn't realise how we felt, sooner. Or of hurting Ben. He'd still be alive, if...things had worked out differently. I wish they had."

He relaxed, at her words. "I wish things had worked out differently, too. I was sort of hoping that we could learn to be friends again. Now I'll never have the chance."

"What will you do now?"

"I want to wait until everyone has left, and then head to the crypt. I still have a few hours of daylight left."

"What about Sebastian?"

"I have to this," he said, holding her close to him again. "Promise me you'll be careful, until this is over. Tell your Aunt Bea, that I can't stay." He let her go, and looked deeply into her eyes. Lifting her chin, gently, he said, "As wrong as it is, to some, I love you." His lips sought hers, his senses soaring, as she responded. Then he abruptly let her go, and head towards the door.

"Matt, be careful," she said after him. The sound of the door opening then closing, came to her, and she wondered if he had even heard her.

/

Matt stared at the coffin, across from him, his knees drawn up to his chin.

The stake and mallet were beside him, to the left. He didn't know how much time had past, since he'd left Megan, nor did he really care.

The pain in his head, whenever he was around a vampire, had eased to a dull throbbing. He had never felt less like a Slayer, than he did at this moment. He remembered that first and last time, he'd had to destroy a vampire; Julian Spencer. And the weird euphoria it had brought.

He felt a familiar rage build within him. How could a father justify turning his own son into a vampire? It was diabolical.

He rose slowly to his feet, and slowly walked around the coffin. The buzz in his head became slightly more insistent. He checked the doorway, warily.

He still had time. He retrieved the mallet and stake, and once more approached the coffin.

He started to raise the lid, then hesitated. Ben had been his friend, could he really do this? The alternative was to allow him to roam the darkness, unchecked. If he didn't then Megan would be in danger. The towns' people were already up in arms. If Ben rose as a vampire that would make three of them, stalking the night. And only one capable of keeping the thirst for blood under control.

Matt shook his head, unaware that he had done so. One vampire was more than enough to deal with, let alone three. He raised the lid, and stared down at his lifeless friend. The throbbing intensified, letting him know that this wasn't a mistake.

Tears trailed down his cheeks. "I'm sorry, Ben," he whispered, as with a trembling hand, placed the stake over his heart. "Forgive me," he whispered, as he raised the mallet. He closed his eyes, as he brought the mallet down, his senses guiding his aim.

Ben screamed in agony, as blood gushed from the wound around the stake.

Despite his reluctance, Matt felt the euphoria, as he brought the mallet down once more. Blood trailed from Ben's mouth, as he writhed inside the coffin. He brought the mallet down a third time, and the vampire lay still.

With disgust, he threw the mallet down, and closed the lid of the coffin, without looking inside.

His whole body trembled, and fought the urge to retch. He knelt down by the coffin, offering up a prayer. Knowing that someone would soon be coming to inter the coffin, it would be better if he wasn't here. He grabbed the mallet, and headed outside. The nausea rose again, and he stumbled off into some bushes, as he lost the battle with his stomach.

/

Night had fallen by the time, Matt returned to the cottage.

Sebastian had just finished giving Barnabas an injection. While Barnabas put his jacket on, Sebastian came over to him.

"It's done," he said in answer to his unasked question. "Ben's finally at peace."

He sank into a chair. "It was horrible," he said in a tortured voice. "I can still hear his screams."

Barnabas came over to him. "Matthew, I know that you were friends," he said, gently, "and I know it was hard for you to do what you did, but it was necessary."

Matt rose quickly to his feet. "If I'd dealt with Dane and Petofi, when I wanted to, Ben would still be alive. It wasn't necessary at _all_. He was nineteen! He had his whole life ahead of him!"

"I know you're upset..."

"_Upset_!" he cried. "_Upset doesn't even begin to describe how I feel_," he yelled furiously. "I'm not prepared to wait around any longer, Sebastian! Either you have a plan in mind, tonight, or I go over there, and deal with them now!"

Sebastian sighed. "Very well. Give me a few minutes, to prepare the ceremony."

"What ceremony?"

"Petofi is afraid of gypsies. I'm going to bring back the one Gypsy he has no power over. King Johnny Romano."

"But Petofi has no power over me," began Matt. "We already know that."

"We still aren't certain of that. Besides, you will still need King Johnny's help."

"Why?"

"The only way to defeat Petofi, is to take the Hand, the source of his powers. King Johnny was meant to be the one chosen, but he was killed, before he could finish the job. Nine days later, it fell to his wife, but she was murdered, before she could find him. Since then, he has successfully avoided the gypsies. The ceremony will allow you, to use the sacred scimitar, then remove the cursed Hand, and end his power once and for all."

"How long will it take?"

"Give me a few minutes, and I'll be ready to begin." He grabbed two books that rested near by, and headed into his study. Matt began to pace, agitatedly. Then Sebastian called to him from the study.

/

Twenty minutes later, Matt and Sebastian returned to the living room Matt seemed strangely calm.

Barnabas rose to his feet. "What happened?" he asked, looking from Matt to Sebastian.

"It was a success," said Sebastian. "It worked much better than I expected." He turned to Matt. "You know what you must do?"

"Sure," said Matt, "it's past time, don't you think?"

A resounding knock made Barnabas look nervously towards the door. Then with a grimace, he clutched his head. "Dane!" he hissed. Was the confrontation he had been expecting since the night he'd used his powers to find the vampire, about to begin?

"Open up!" yelled Dane from outside. "I bring news from Petofi!"

They made no move to do as he asked, and Dane grew impatient. "Open up!" he demanded. "Petofi wants to see Matthew. And he is used to getting what he wants. Besides, there is someone with me, who wishes to see dear Matthew. Speak!" he ordered. A cry of pain came through the door, and Matt rushed forward. "_Megan_!"

Before Barnabas or Sebastian could stop him, Matt had flung the door open.

Dane stood on the stoop, holding Megan prisoner. "At last, I have your attention," he sneered.

"Let her go, Dane!" demanded, Matt, moving forward.

"Huh-huh, stay right where you are, Slayer," said Dane, bending over Megan's throat. "My Lord, wishes an audience with you, and I suggest that you do as he says. He hoped you liked his gift. Such a friendly boy, Ben. It seemed such a waste."

Matt lunged forward with a cry of rage. Dane was the faster. He lunged down, biting Megan. She screamed and then sagged against him.

"Megan!" howled Matt, realising that this was what the strange feeling of loss had been about.

"An added incentive, from Petofi," gloated Dane, as Megan slumped to the step, and he quickly vanished.

Matt bent down, beside Megan, as Sebastian and Barnabas came over to them.

Sebastian reached out to check of a pulse. "She's still alive. Barnabas help me bring her inside."

"I'm going to kill him for this!" hissed Matt, and rushed out into the darkness.

Sebastian hesitated a moment, and then turned, to Barnabas. "Look after her, Barnabas. I'm going to check on Bea Phillips, and then I'm going after Matt. He may need my help, once this is over."


	31. Chapter 31

**A/N** Contains some violence.

Chapter 31

Petofi was waiting for him, when Matt burst into the room. He had obviously watched his arrival, for he remained standing by the window.

He grinned, and turned to face his young adversary. "Such a grand entrance," he said with mocking approval.

Matthew's eyes were slits, as he glared furiously at Petofi. "You're finished here, Petofi. Megan will be the last one you will harm."

Petofi laughed, a sound without humour, and Matt repressed the shiver he felt. He remembered that laugh only too well from his dreams. The man seemed even more repulsive in the flesh, than he had in his dreams. And he hated him.

"And you think you can stop me?" he asked, between gales of laughter. "I know that you are a Slayer, my boy, but do you really think that you can do anything to prevent me from doing anything I want, to you or to anyone else?"

"I don't think it, Petofi, I know," said Matthew with an assurance Petofi didn't quite feel comfortable with. "One way or another, this will end tonight."

"My dear boy, we have gotten off to a bad start, haven't we?" he asked, changing the subject. Matt had the feeling that he was stalling for time.

"You seem to have heard nothing but the bad things about me," he continued in an injured tone.

"I've heard enough to know that it's all true," stated Matt. "It was you that kidnapped my mother..."

Petofi held up his Hand. "Now there," he said, as though speaking to a child. "That's exactly what I mean. I had no part in the kidnapping of Julia Collins."

"You had to have been aware of her presence here, since, it was your servant, Dane Spencer that held her captive. You used your powers on her, but they didn't work. I know enough now, to know, that my father isn't responsible for many of the things, he's being blamed for, including my mother's death."

Petofi raised an eyebrow. "So, it's "father" now?"

Matt looked slightly uncomfortable. He wasn't sure when he stared to think of Barnabas as "father" again, but for now it felt right. Any doubts that remained could be put aside until Petofi had been dealt with.

"Do you forgive him for what he did to your mother?"

Matt hesitated. It was one thing to call him father once more, but forgiveness was another thing entirely. Despite his mother's words, he wasn't quite ready for that, just yet.

"Ahhh! You hesitate my dear boy!" gloated Petofi. "Perhaps your doubts can be settled. Your father, as you now wish to call him, is far from the innocent, he or your Watcher, had led you to believe."

"What are you talking about? How do you know so much about me?" asked Matt, not liking the tables being turned. What trickery was he up to now? Then, he answered his own question, his heart sinking. "Ben told you."

"Perhaps I am not the one to answer your questions," replied his enemy.

Taking this as a cue to enter, Dane entered the room, and Sebastian was with him. The vampire held the Englishman at knifepoint; it's curving blade, resting on his throat, dimpling the flesh.

"Don't listen to him, Matthew!" said Sebastian, his eyes blazing at Petofi. "He's the master of lies!"

Petofi turned his attention to the Watcher. "Lies, my dear boy?" he asked, sounding genuinely offended. "I wonder that you can say that so easily, when you and his father, not to mention his mother, have kept the truth from him all his life."

Matthew's ears pricked up. "Leave my mother out of this Petofi!" he snarled. "You aren't fit to mention her name!"

Petofi looked first at Sebastian, and than at Matthew, for a moment, with complete disbelief. "Matthew, my dear boy, you think I am your enemy, when the sad fact is, that the people you've called friends, have kept the truth about Barnabas Collins from you, your entire life. Not to mention, the real reason, behind the blood tests you've had to endure since childhood."

Sebastian paled, at his words. "And what about you, Petofi?" he asked. "Why don't you tell him the truth, about why Barnabas really killed Julia, that night?"

"What truth is he talking about Sebastian?" interrupted Matt. "What _is_ the truth about the blood tests?"

Sebastian couldn't answer. He looked at Matthew helplessly.

"He can't tell you," crowed Petofi, "because he knows I'm telling you the truth." He turned to Sebastian. "Should I tell him, or would you rather?" he asked, holding up his hand. Sebastian's face paled even more, and he moved back, trying to keep a distance between himself and the hand. Petofi chuckled again. "But then, Barnabas isn't the only one, with a dark past, is he, Sebastian?"

Sebastian swallowed, fear showing on his white face. "I-I don't know what you're talking about," he bluffed, unconvincingly.

"I think you do. Why not share it with the rest of us, my boy. It's a burden I'm sure you've carried alone, for long enough." As he spoke he reached out the Hand, and touched Sebastian's arm, who tried vainly to withdraw from its reach, but Dane, held him firmly. Having no place to move, the hand touched his arm, and he grimaced, as the place Petofi had touched began to burn.

Sebastian's resolve crumpled. "Noooo!" he cried, in torturous voice, "Nooo!"

"What have you done to him!" cried Matt, alarmed.

"Nothing," replied Petofi, innocently. And indicating Sebastian, he said, "Why don't you tell us, what's troubling you, my boy? You'll feel much better, once you have."

Sebastian's narrow chest heaved, and he gulped in air. He cried openly, as he was forced to relive that night, years ago. The horror he felt then was reflected in his voice, as he haltingly began to talk.

"My...my father, was a proud man, who came from a long line of Watchers. He's hopes that my younger brother, Simon, and I would follow the family tradition were well founded. He always hinted that we had inherited a special destiny, but would never come right out and say it.

I was seventeen, when I became involved with the wrong crowd, and for the first time in my life, I was a disappointment to my father. Late one night, after yet another visit from the police, I sneaked out of the house, not knowing that my younger brother, had seen me, and followed after me.

I'd more than once proven myself, in the eyes of the gang leader, and he'd arranged for my membership to be more...permanent, with an initiation.

I met selected gang members, including the leader, at disused warehouse.

There had been many whispered rumours about this select group, and only those few, who had proven themselves, were ever granted an opportunity.

They blindfolded me, and led me down some stairs. I heard low chanting, as we neared the bottom. The leader spoke and the chanting stopped."

Sebastian paused, his face, twisting, as he continued to recall that night, so long ago. His narrow chest heaved as he hitched in breath. His voice held the depths of his pain, horror. "The chanting grew louder and louder, then stopped abruptly. They removed the blindfold, and they had Simon, bound and gagged on a...alter of some kind. He looked terrified. He begged me with his eyes to help him, but I was too shocked to move. Until that moment, I'd never realised that I'd joined some kind of Sect. The leader approached him, and held his arms high, chanting. A wind rose from nowhere, and...this...this...this thing…

I tried to save him!" Sebastian closed his eyes, but that didn't stop the images that flashed through his mind.

"Simon, was only twelve...I tried to help him...he was my brother, and I loved him. Later, my father told me about the Watcher's Council, and what they did. He blamed himself, in not telling me sooner. Maybe if he had, I would have had the knowledge to save Simon.

Years later, my skills as a Watcher brought me something that few have achieved; access to the Inner Council, and some…interesting and unique cases."

A fit of trembling consumed Sebastian, as he finished speaking. The story of what had happened to his younger brother had left him weak, and a sense of being exposed. He sagged against Dane. He'd never mentioned Simon to any one until tonight.

Matthew stared at Sebastian, with renewed understanding. He'd felt Sebastian's horror at what the gang he had gotten involved with, and what they had done to his brother. He glared at Petofi, for putting him through this.

"Your evil knows no bounds," he said, with contempt. "Sebastian's right, you're the master of lies, and will listen no more!"

He stepped closer to Petofi, and Dane dragged Sebastian to his feet. He dug the curving knife deeper in to the Watcher's throat, drawing blood. In the trembling wreck, Petofi's touch had reduced him to, he barely noticed.

"One step closer, Slayer, and I slit his throat," warned the vampire. His eyes slipped briefly to the bloody cut, and he almost drool. Petofi smiled, and indicated his vampire servant and prisoner. "You see, my dear boy, it's impossible."

"I'm not you're "dear boy" and never have," hissed Matt through clenched teeth. He glanced at Dane from the corner of his eye, quickly calculating how best to tackle him without endangering Sebastian, any further. "This is between you and me, Petofi. Let Sebastian go."

Again, Petofi chuckled; "Do you really th..." his voice trailed off, as a scent assailed his nostrils. Dane's eyes narrowed, as he too smelt it.

Matthew noticed the scent too, and looked around the room, questioningly. "Mother?" he asked hesitantly.

A look of fear crossed the vampire's face, as a ghostly form began to take shape. As the ghost of Julia, appeared he released his prisoner. "Julia!" he gasped.

Petofi took a step back, at the sight of her ghostly form. Realising that his bargaining chip had been freed, leaving him unprotected, he tried to reach Sebastian, intending to use him as a shield.

The second, Sebastian was freed, Matt spun around, impaling the vampire through the heart. The force of his blow, driving the stake through the heart and out the other side, the momentum pinning Dane to the wall behind him. He let out a piecing shriek, before being reduced to a pile of ashes.

As Petofi reached Sebastian, another ghostly form took shape, stopping him in his tracks.

"King Johnny!" he gulped, fearfully.

King Johnny sneered. "We meet again, Petofi," he said triumphantly. "And this time it will be you that will die!"

Distracted by the ghost of his nemesis, Petofi didn't see Matt advance with the scimitar in hand, until he felt the tip touch his neck, near his ear.

"This is the end, Petofi," hissed Matt, all the hatred and loathing he'd ever felt dripped from his tone. He raised the scimitar high, and as he brought it down on the dreaded hand he said, "This is for my mother!"

Petofi howled in agony, as the Hand was once more cleaved from his wrist.

This time, there was no fire, to seal the wound, and blood gushed from the stump. "This isn't the end," Petofi promised, still defiant, despite the pain he was in. "If you kill me now, you will be no better than the man you call father. You think your mother was the only person, he's killed. If you do, then you are greatly mistaken. She was merely the last!"

Matt's eyes blazed with sheer hatred. He swung the scimitar again. "This is for Ben!" he said, as the blade slashed through Petofi's neck, decapitating him.


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter 32

**A/N **Sorry for the long delay on posting further chapters. Had a few problems with my foot, which stopped me getting on the computer. Good news I'm finally off the crutches! Been a long 12 weeks! Thank you all for your patience.

/

Almost immediately, whatever spell Petofi had held over Sebastian, faded.

He'd huddled against the wall, when Dane had freed him, the fatigue that had consumed him, driving him almost to his knees. Now, a feeling of renewed strength swept over him, making him feel almost refreshed. He still felt exposed over what he been forced to tell about his younger brother.

He glanced at Matthew, standing over the dead form of Petofi, with a look of disgust on his pale face. As he continued to watch his Slayer, he tossed the bloodied scimitar away from him, and turned away from the grisly sight.

King Johnny had faded, when Petofi had met his end, and now he approached the teenager. He put a hand on his shoulder, in a gesture of praise.

"You're pretty good, for a gadjos. Maybe there be gypsy blood in you, eh?" he congratulated him. "And now Petofi is finally dead," he said, looking down at the corpse. "I spit on thee, Andreas Petofi!" he hissed, suddenly follow through his threat.

Sebastian picked up the severed Hand, passing it the gypsy king. "The Hand is yours, King Johnny," he said, unsuccessfully trying not to grimace. "The reign of terror is finally at and end."

The gypsy took the Hand, solemnly, as though accepting a great reward. He half bowed towards the Englishman and Slayer. "My people will rejoice tonight, and for many more nights yet to come!" He turned to Matt. "I knew Barnabas Collins, long ago. You are very much like him. He a pretty decent sort...for a vampire."

Sebastian winced, and said hastily, "I thank you, King Johnny, for the help you have given tonight. I release you. You may return to your grave."

"Wait," said Matthew, but the ghost faded from sight. He turned, quickly to Sebastian. "What did you do that for?" he asked. "What was he talking about? He said Barnabas was a..."

"Ghosts have knowledge from beyond the grave, that's all. Come on, we've got to get out of here. Megan should have recovered by now."

"Megan," he said, as if just remembering what had happened to her. "If anything has happened to her...I wish I could drive that stake through his heart again and again,"

"She'll be fine, Matt," Sebastian placated him. "She would have recovered the second Dane was destroyed. A residual weakness may be present, for a few days, but otherwise..."

/

As they neared the cottage, a fit of weakness suddenly consumed Matt. He sank to his knees, and began shivering, violently. Alarmed Sebastian knelt down beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "What have I done?" he muttered. His face was pale, and thin film of sweat, covered the pallid flesh.

"What you had to do," soothed Sebastian. Matt began to rock back and forth, hugging himself.

"I killed him..." he muttered softly. "...I killed him..."

Sebastian gathered him in his arms, a protective gesture. "Matt, it's all right. You did what needed to be done. It's part of what you are, a Slayer."

"What's happening to me?"

"A reaction to the ceremony, earlier. An overdose of adrenaline. It will pass."

The shaking increased, and he grew alarmed. Until he realised, that Matt was trying hard not to laugh. "Come on, we're almost home. Try and stand."

Helped him to his feet, and with an arm around his waist, helped towards the cottage.

/

As soon as they entered, Barnabas was beside them, alarmed. "What's the matter with him?"

"Let me at get in the door, first," muttered the Watcher, still supporting Matt.

"Matt!" called Megan, rising shakily to her feet, from where she sat on the sofa. Apart from being pale, she seemed to bear no further ill effects from Dane's bite.

"Megan!" whispered Matt hoarsely, and pushing Sebastian aside, staggered to her side. "Thank God, you're all right!" he said, embracing her, tightly. "How'd you feel?"

"A little better, now that this is all over," She looked up into his feverish eyes, as if just realising that something wasn't quite right. "Matt what's wrong? You're white as a sheet."

"I'm fine," he whispered, with a bleak smile. "Now that I know you're safe." His lips found hers, drawing her tightly to him.

Barnabas and Sebastian watched the tender reunion briefly, before holding their own counsel. "Well?" asked Barnabas, with a sense of impatience. "What happened?"

"Petofi and Dane are both dead," Sebastian explained. "King Johnny and Julia came through, at the crucial moment. The weakness Matt feels right now, will pass. It's nothing serious. But I think it'll him do him good, for him to get away from here, for a few days. Maybe take up Nick's offer of a visit to Clearwater."

"What about the spell?" insisted Barnabas. "Did it end, when Petofi died?"

Sebastian sighed, and Barnabas noticed how pale he looked. What had happened at the Inn? Sebastian didn't just look pale, he looked shaken. Had Petofi done something to him?

Sebastian noticed Barnabas curious look, and nervously looked away, still feeling exposed. He knew Barnabas would understand he had his own private pain. But he didn't feel like going through it all again; once was enough.

"Sebastian?" asked Barnabas quietly, reaching out to him, truly concerned, for his friend and protector.

Sebastian sighed again, and squared his shoulders, seeming to draw strength from Barnabas. He turned to face him again. Understanding flashed between hazel and grey eyes. Sebastian nodded his head briefly, grateful that Barnabas wouldn't push for an explanation. "I don't know if things will change just yet, Barnabas," he said, finally answering his question. "It could happen overnight, it could take days. I suggest we take it slow, anyway. Matthew is realising there are a lot of things he doesn't know about. He's willing to listen, to so much. If we rush him now, it could ruin everything. Give him time to make sense of everything. But, I meant what I said; if he won't forgive you, I'll do what I must to give you peace."

Barnabas stared at him a moment, and then looked down at his shoes. It was a moment before he spoke.

"Thank you, Sebastian," he said quietly. "I've waited so long, for Matthew's forgiveness, and understanding, that I've come to believe that it will be almost impossible. I can understand, why he can't," he faced the Englishman, his expression weary. "I don't envy you, your task, if he can not. You have always been a friend, to me, Sebastian, even when I doubted you." He held out his hand. "Thank you, for everything you've tried to do," he said gratefully.

Sebastian took the proffered hand, in a firm handshake. "You don't need to thank me, Barnabas," he said. "I'm proud to call you my friend. I consider it an honour to have known you. I only wish, that I could have prevented…most of what's happened since I came to Collinsport. If only one thing could have been prevented…"

"You mustn't blame yourself. I know you've worked relentlessly, to try and save my family from Petofi and the evil he caused. If it hadn't been for you, I wouldn't have been give a second chance to redeem myself, with Matthew, if it's even possible."

After dawn's approach had forced Barnabas to his coffin, Sebastian suggested that they both get away from Collinsport for a few days. At first Matthew seemed hesitant, but finally Sebastian was able to persuade them to go. Sebastian called Nick, and despite the unreasonable hour, Nick quickly agreed, and arrangements where quickly made. And after a few hours sleep, Sebastian waved them off.

/

Three days later, Sebastian was pursuing through his bookshelf, when a knock demanded his attention. He frowned, and looked at his watch. Matthew wasn't due to arrive for another hour or so, yet, so it couldn't be he.

The knock came again, more determined this time, and putting the volume down, went and answered it. He swallowed on seeing who his visitor was, and pushed his glasses more firmly on his nose.

"Well, Sebastian," asked his visitor, with an English accent. "Are you going to ask me in, or do I have to conduct this meeting on your doorstep?"

Sebastian opened the door wider and walked away. He clasped his hands nervously, as he heard the other man first enter, and then close the door behind him.

"Where is Matthew?" he asked pointedly, after his blue eyes made a quick appraising glance about the cottage.

Finally Sebastian turned to face his unwelcome guest. "He's away visiting relatives in Clearwater. I expect him back, sometime today."

Robin Oakley regarded him, with derision. "Is it wise for a Slayer to have time off, visiting relatives, Sebastian?" he asked coldly.

Sebastian sighed, and returned the other man's cold glance. "I thought he deserved a break, Robin. He's had a lot to deal with over the last few months. Besides, I have the Inner Council behind me. They had left me handle this in whatever way I saw fit."

Robin gazed pointedly about the room. Then, folding his arms he said, "The Inner Council may have given you backing in the past, Sebastian. But certain things have come to light...and they are greatly displeased with your conduct." His voice grew colder, and stern. "You have kept vital information from them Sebastian, and they want a full investigation."

Sebastian held his gaze, the grey eyes, like thunderheads, his voice so low; Robin could barely hear him. He hid his discomfort. He knew Sebastian's temper well enough, and knew that he had just crossed over the line. But he had a job to do, and he would do it.

"I have kept nothing from the Inner Council or the Watcher's Council. I have proceeded as I always have, with Slayers. I admit that Matthew is quite different, in being the first male Slayer..."

"You have become emotionally involved, Sebastian! You've lost your impartiality, and that won't do. It won't do at all."

"I'm his Guardian! The Council approved! They thought it the best way for me to train Matthew and get closer to his father. The threat Petofi posed has been dealt with. Matthew destroyed him, three days ago, along with the renegade vampire, Dane Spencer."

"We are aware of that, Sebastian," Robin confirmed. "But did you find out, why Matthew couldn't find this vampire until it was almost on top of him? Or where the coffin was hidden?"

"No," he admitted reluctantly, looking down.

"Or why you neglected to inform the Council, that Matthew forced Barnabas to face the rising sun, severely burning his hand, in the process? You have a lot of explaining to do, Sebastian!"

Sebastian opened his mouth to speak, but before he could utter a word, the door opened again, and Matthew and Megan appeared. His welcome smile froze on his lips, on seeing Sebastian's tense manner, and obvious dislike of the man in the business suit.

"Sebastian?" he asked, drawing Megan closer to him, as they closed the gap between them.

Robin turned to face Matthew. "Ahh, the prodigal returns," he said, and Matthew stared at him, at first curiously and then with a deep loathing, he didn't understand. He didn't like this man, at all.

Robin leaned back, giving Megan a searching look, who moved closer to Matt, who put a protective arm around her.

"And who is this young woman?" asked Robin, directing the question to Sebastian rather than Matt.

Matt bristled. "The young woman happens to be my girlfriend, Megan Phillips." He looked the Englishman up and down, and added, "Not that it's any business of yours."

Anger flashed in the blue eyes, and he looked at Sebastian in shocked surprise. "A girlfriend?" he asked, as though it was a terrible thing. "You have allowed him to have a girlfriend!"

"I have let Matthew have as normal a life as possible, Robin. I have no problem with Megan, nor with Matthew. He does what needs to be done, when it is required."

"Just who do you think you are?" asked Matthew stepping closer to the Englishman. He towered over him by two feet. "Coming in here and questioning Sebastian like this! It has nothing to do with you, or the Council, if I have a relationship or not. Sebastian doesn't interfere in my private affairs, and I'll be dammed if I'll let you, either!"

Robin pulled down on his suit jacket, with an air of disgust. "Lack of discipline or respect for authority figures. Just what are you doing here, Sebastian? Since when have Slayers dictated what they will and won't do? You are being far too lenient, with this boy." Robin turned to face Matthew, a look of disdain on his face. "_Dammed_, an appropriate word," he looked at Sebastian, "don't you think, Sebastian?"


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter 33

**A/N **_Sorry for the long delay on posting further chapters. Had a few more problems with my foot, and then my daughter was poorly for a time. This one is for you, __MonkeesDoctorWho1987_

/

Sebastian looked worriedly at Matthew, then back to Robin. Just what was Robin up to, he wondered? And how much had he found out? _What_ had he found out?

Matthew regarded the other Englishman with a look Sebastian knew well, from the days when Matt hadn't been so accommodating of Barnabas. And realised that Matt shared his own dislike of Robin. He felt a sense of triumph of in the knowledge. Whatever Robin had set out to do, he'd just defeated his purpose.

"I'm dammed alright," fumed Matt, breaking into Sebastian's thoughts. "Dammed in being a Slayer, with people like you, getting in my face about it!"

Sebastian felt like congratulating him, but managed to quell the impulse.

Robin didn't seem to know how to handle the outspoken Matt. "You are more than a Slayer, boy," stated Robin, glancing quickly in Sebastian's direction once more.

The Watcher paled.

Matthew's eyes narrowed, glittering darkly. "I am not a boy," he said dangerously. "Why don't you do us all a favour and crawl back under your rock? Better yet, why not just head back to England? We don't need you here. Sebastian and I are managing just fine."

"Unfortunately for you, I can't do that," said Robin, smugly. "The Council have become...concerned over certain matters, and your co-operation and that of Sebastian's is required." He looked at Matthew, coldly. "It is not a request. Now, this young lady will have to excuse us. We have business to discuss."

"Megan stays," said Matt determinedly. "She's known what I am, for years. Anyway, I'd only tell her afterwards."

"This is a closed meeting," insisted Robin. He glanced at Megan and then back at Matthew. "As for knowing what you are...I seriously doubt that."

Matt frowned at his tone. It suggested that he knew something he didn't.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"If you want explanations, then you will do as I say. The young lady must leave."

"If she leaves, I leave with her," stated Matt, defiantly. He looked the short, Englishman up and down. "And I doubt that anything you have to say would be all that interesting. Come on, Megan. We'll let your Aunt Bea, know we're back," he said, turning, and heading for the door.

"If you leave here, Matthew, then it will go into my report. The Council is already displeased with Sebastian's work here, with you. And I don't mind telling you that it may reflect badly for him. Perhaps, maybe enough that another Watcher may be assigned to you."

"_What_!" gasped Sebastian, taken by surprise, at his announcement. "I have given the Council no reason whatsoever, to remove me form Matthew's case!"

"They disagree, and I have seen nothing to make me change that opinion."

"You're here to report on Sebastian!" concluded Matt, furiously, his dislike becoming more obvious every minute. "You don't think he's doing his job as a Watcher, do you?"

"That has crossed my mind, yes," Oakley admitted. "A Watcher must remain impartial to his Slayer, something that he as failed to do in this case. Sebastian knows that he can be replaced, you cannot. At least, until another Slayer is called to duty, in the event of your death." He looked the teenager up and down again, a contemptuous smile twitching the corners of his mouth. "And that doesn't seem likely, does it?"

"If you don't think he's doing his job, why don't you come out back to the gym, and I'll be happy to show you exactly what Sebastian's been teaching me. I've broken his ribs more than once," said Matt getting right into his face, challenging him.

"Matthew," said Sebastian quietly. He stared at Robin, with displeasure.

"Why are you doing this, Robin?" he asked him. "What am I being accused of exactly?"

"Withholding information from the Council isn't the best way to move forward, Sebastian. And certain matters...have come to light. They are starting to question whether you are fit to remain a Watcher, not just of Matthew..." He looked at Matt again. "If you insist that the young lady remain, I cannot guarantee that it will reflect positively."

"So, it's come to this; you're holding a gun to my green card, and career," said Sebastian, dismayed.

Picking up on Sebastian's change of mood, Matt asked, "Do you have to hold this meeting now? Can't it be put off, until tomorrow?"

"I think it best that it proceed, without further delay. I understand that you have just returned from visiting relatives. You should be refreshed from your little break."

Seeing no way out of it and now understanding that's Sebastian's career was on the line, Matt sighed and turned to Megan. "I'm sorry," he said, with a defeated tone.

Megan looked up at him, "I understand," she said, putting a hand on his arm. "Aunt Bea will be wondering how we are. Will I see you later?"

"Count on it," he said with a smile, kissing her. He walked her to the door, and kissed her again, before closing the door, and turning angrily walked over to Robin Oakley.

"Alright, she's gone. Now what's this rubbish about Sebastian not fit to be my Watcher?"

"Quite simple. He's made discoveries on his own, and for his own reasons, has decided not to share his findings with the Watcher's Council. He failed to inform us, that after destroying Julian Spencer, that you forced your father, to face the sun, severely burning his hand."

"That was months ago!" shot back Matt.

"Precisely, my point. That's not the only thing he's kept from us. We are forced to wonder what else he may be hiding; from the Council as well as from you."

Sebastian paled. "I have kept nothing from Matt, nor the Council. When they approached me to take on Matthew's training it was understood that I would be in complete control. It's an approach they have had no reason to question, until now."

"That's true; until they discovered, quite by accident, that you neglected to tell them, something of extreme interest."

Again, he looked at Matthew with keen interest. "It's come to our knowledge that you have in recent weeks, come to a kind of reconciliation with your father. Is that true?" he asked suddenly changing the topic.

Matthew was silent for a few minutes, taking time in his answer, and Sebastian realised that Matt had come a long way, even in three days.

Perhaps the spell that Petofi had caused had ended, after all? But if that were true, would the spell on Barnabas, keeping him a vampire, also end? Or was Matthew's total forgiveness the key? If so, then would Barnabas recover, or remain as he was?

"We get on better," Matt finally admitted.

"You witnessed him murder your mother, didn't you?"

Matt frowned as he answered. "Yes," he said slowly. "But the Council know that. It was part of why Sebastian became my legal guardian."

"Would you say you've forgiven him for what he did?" Robin went on, dismissively.

Matt swallowed, and glanced at Sebastian. He looked edgy. As though Robin's questions were making him uncomfortable. Again, he recalled his expression when Robin had suggested that he'd been keeping things from him. "No," he finally admitted, looking down at his feet.

"And yet, you are on "friendly terms"?" Robin continued to question him.

"I wouldn't say that," said Matt defensively. "I know that sounds weird to you, but we're not friends, exactly. I can talk to him, and still not forgive him, for what he did to my mother. Even at her request, I still can't to that."

"At her request?" asked Robin, sounding surprised.

"She's appeared to me more than once. Sebastian's seen her too, so has Barnabas."

"I see. So, would you say, the ghost of your mother is a major influence on you?"

"She's my mother," said Matt, not understanding is question. "Of course I'd listen to her"

"But you've just admitted that despite her request to forgive your father, you haven't done so."

Matt looked away again, biting his lower lip. "There are some things that aren't easy to do, no matter who asks them. I don't know if I can ever forgive him for what he did. Why all the questions about my mother?"

"Do you think it possible, that she may have kept anything from you?" Robin asked innocently.

"Like what, exactly?"

"Sebastian knows, don't you?" Robin asked, turning to include the Watcher in the discussion.

Sebastian blanched at his words; swallowing the retort he felt fighting to escape from his lips. He glared furiously at Robin, as he felt all the work and progress he'd made with Matthew come crashing down around him.


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter 34

Matthew watched Sebastian closely; curious as to his reaction to Robin's probing questions. Once more, he sensed Sebastian's dislike of the man, not to mention his own dislike and mistrust. He'd known Sebastian a lot longer than he did this stranger, who asked far too many questions.

He searched Sebastian's face, questioningly. He remained apprehensive. If he were to be honest with himself, there could be some truth to what Robin was saying. There _were_ some things that he knew were being kept from him; like the reason behind the blood tests, he had to undergo, for as long as he could remember. And no one seemed willing to answer his question of why?

But, Sebastian had been there, when he'd needed him, even when he hadn't really deserved his loyalty. Then there had been the night; he had defeated Petofi; before he learned about the fate of Sebastian's younger brother, Simon.

Sebastian had questioned Petofi as to the real reason of why Barnabas had killed his mother. For years, Sebastian and Quentin had tried to tell him there was more to this than he knew, if only he'd listen.

Perhaps if he had, then they would have been more willing to explain the need for the blood tests. He was tempted to question Sebastian further; very tempted. But his immense dislike of Robin stopped him. He wouldn't help this man crucify Sebastian; he owed him far too much, for that to ever happen. He made his decision.

If he wanted answers, then he had to go to the one person that would. His father. He shivered, suddenly, at the thought. For years he had denied Barnabas as his father, and yet three nights ago, it had seemed natural for him to use the term with Petofi, but he had yet to feel comfortable using it in front of the people he trusted most. And he did owe Sebastian loyalty. Although he understood it had been forced from him, he'd felt privileged, - if that were the right word – to learn about Simon West. He felt the Slayer/Watcher bond more strongly then he'd ever felt it before.

He faced Robin again, his penetrating eyes glittering darkly. "You know, I figure that you're only here to cause trouble between Sebastian and me. Well it won't work. I've known Sebastian a lot longer than I have you. What makes you think I'll believe anything you say over him? He's told me what he can, and if he has kept anything from me, then he has he's reasons."

The smug look vanished from Oakley's face, and Sebastian could have whooped with delight. Relief washed over him at Matthew's words. He threw a triumphant look in Robin's direction, but the short man didn't see it. He stared at Matthew, as though he were some new kind of species. This development hadn't been what he was expecting. "He has kept information from you, and you don't care?" he asked, but most of his bluster had gone.

Matthew looked bored. "I trust him. I don't trust you. This meeting is over. I'm going to see Megan." He turned and stalked out the door.

/

Sebastian waited until he'd left and then give vent to a hearty laugh. A rare occurrence at the best of times, Robin could only look on, completely embarrassed that his plan hadn't quite gone the way he had expected it to.

Sebastian clapped his hands, still laughing. "Very well done, Robin!" he tittered. "I doubt you could have handled that better! He is not impressed with you at all! Oh my, what will the Inner Council say?" he tittered. His grey eyes darkened to the colour of thunderheads, and his voice dropped a notch. "Whatever you were going to tell him, I suggest you forget about it. I know Matthew, far better than any of you. I've worked with him, lived with him and taught him. He won't believe anything you say to him."

"This isn't the last of this, Sebastian," bluffed Robin. "The investigation will continue. You have forgotten your Watcher's vows."

"I haven't forgotten anything, Robin. I've stood by those vows from the day I took my oath. I can do my job best, by being left alone to do it."

"You have forgotten one fundamental rule, Sebastian; demons can't be tamed."

"I hardly think Matt qualifies..."

"He's a dhampir, half vampire," retaliated Robin, and smiled smugly, at Sebastian's dumbstruck expression. "The Council have become extremely interested in him. As I am sure you would be aware of, and that's why you...forgot to inform the rest of us."

"Stay away from him, Robin," warned Sebastian. "I know what he's capable of. A few broken ribs, or a severely burned hand, are just a few of things he's capable of. I sure wouldn't want to be you, if you crossed him."

"So, you'd agree with me, in saying that he can be dangerous?" asked Robin innocently.

"You're twisting it, to suit yourself," Sebastian protested. "I didn't say that..."

"But you've just threatened."

"It was a warning not a threat! He can be headstrong when he wishes, but for the most part, he's pretty easy to get on with."

"So, you've had trouble controlling him?" again Robin pounced on his statement. "Again, proof that a demon can't be tamed."

"Demons can't be reasoned with," said Sebastian, he's voice lowering slightly. "When I have to, I can make Matthew see reason. After I discovered what he had done to his father, we had words. They weren't pleasant, but in the end, he did want needed to be done. I didn't inform the Council, because I had resolved the situation. Since that time, there have been no recurrences, if anything the relationship between Matt and his father, as improved. More so, since Julia appeared to him. Now, that hardly fits your description of a demon, Robin. Now, if there's nothing else, this meeting is over. You've outstayed your welcome."

Robin thought of pushing it further, but the look in Sebastian's eyes and his closed expression, told him that he had pushed things as far as they could go. He sighed, and nodded in agreement. "Very well, I'll go. But listen carefully, Sebastian. The Council's interest in Matthew has increased, with this discovery. And they will be watching you both, very carefully. I will need to speak to Barnabas Collins, sometime tonight, if possible. Where can I find him?"

"He was here, for a few nights, when trouble in town made it necessary for him to have a more secured hiding place. He's moved back to the Old House, but he may not talk to you."

"I'll take my chances."

"I'd be careful in talking to him, Robin. He's very protective of Matthew, despite how things are between them. If he thought you meant Matthew harm..."

"I am adequately protected, I assure you," said Robin, smugly, patting a pocket of his suit jacket. "Goodbye, Sebastian."

Sebastian watched him leave, without acknowledging his farewell. The thought that he's concern was for Barnabas, rather than the pompous Robin, crossed his mind, as he crossed over to the telephone. He dialled, and waited impatiently for it to be picked up at the other end. When it was finally answered he said, one word. "Armadillo."

/

Dusk was approaching as Sebastian approached the Old House. He hoped that he had arrived here, well before Robin proposed his own visit. He stared toward the old building, knowing that somewhere in its depths, Barnabas would be preparing to rise for the night.

He hesitated a moment, knowing that Barnabas didn't like visits being sprung on him so soon after rising for the night. He glanced at the darkening sky, and judged that Barnabas would have prepared himself, and be ready face yet another long night.

He entered the darkened interior, shivering slightly at the chill that descended over him almost immediately. The blackened walls, from the fire, were showing more signs of deterioration, as well as fresh signs of a frenzied search. The wallpaper showed fresh signs of peeling in places, and mustiness hung about the place that Sebastian hadn't noticed before.

"Barnabas?" he called into the darkness.

He heard the basement door clang shut, and Barnabas' silhouette appeared before it. "Sebastian," came the cultured voice from the darkness. "What brings you here, so early in the evening?" As he spoke there was a brief flash of light, as Barnabas struck a match and began lighting a few candles. He still preferred source of light.

"Matthew's back from Clearwater, I thought you should know," began Sebastian. "There's also a stranger in town. A Robin Oakley. He's from the Watcher's Council."

Barnabas stared at him, curiously. "From your tone, I gather, that you and this Robin, aren't on good terms?"

"Not exactly," Sebastian agreed. "I suppose you could say, he's my superior. Be that as it may, he's bad news."

"What does he want?"

"When you get right down to the facts, he's here to discredit me, as Matt's Watcher, maybe get me to leave Collinsport altogether."

"He can't do that, can he?" asked Barnabas concerned.

"He's discovered that I've been keeping pertinent information from the Council, concerning Matt." He paused briefly, before adding, " Barnabas, he knows, that Matt's a dhampir. And what he did to you, a few months back."

Barnabas frowned, remembering what Sebastian said could happen if the Council became too concerned. "What does this Robin, plan to do?" he asked, his own concern increasing.

"For now, he's trying to imply that we're keeping things from him, undermine all the work I've done, with him. He's having me investigated. If they decided I'm unfit to be a Watcher, it'll mean my career. He's also wanting to talk to you."

"Me?" questioned Barnabas, surprised. "Why?" he asked his eyes narrowing.

"I don't know, he wouldn't tell me. He's not made himself popular with Matthew, either. I felt I should warn you, if he came here looking for you."

Barnabas moved over to the broken bay window, and gazed up at the half moon. "Did he say anything to Matthew, about being a dhampir?" he asked after a few minutes.

"No, it didn't come up, until Matt told him what he thought of the whole business, and walked out." He paused, then closed the distance between them. "Barnabas, I think you should try talking to Matt. I think he'd be more willing to listen, now. This could be the one good thing to come out of Robin's meddling. It's worth a shot; he's changed."

"You were the one, who said to wait," Barnabas reminded him.

"I was wrong. We can't afford to wait any longer. Robin could ruin everything. I called the Council, after he left, and they weren't too happy about it. I don't know what else to do Barnabas," he admitted.

"Very well, I will try and talk to Matthew, after I've dealt with this Robin Oakley."

"You can talk to me now," said Matt from the pillars.

The two men whirled as one, to face him, wondering how long he'd been standing there. How much had he heard?

"How long have you been standing there?" Sebastian put the thought into words.

"Long enough to know, I've had this up to here," he said gesturing above his head. "And that Robin, guy is asking too many questions." He advanced towards them; his dark eyes glittered in the darkness. "Robin says you're keeping things from me, Petofi said the same thing, even Sebastian has said, that I have to hear it from you. All right, I'm here."

Seeing the determined expression on his son's face, he glanced down at his hands, playing nervously with his wedding ring. "Very well," he said quietly. "I'll tell you what you want to know." He looked at Sebastian, and said, "I must do this alone, Sebastian."

He nodded, and clasped his arm, in a farewell, gesture. "I understand, Barnabas," he turned to Matthew. "Remember what your mother said; he's not your enemy." He added, before leaving the two of them alone.


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35

Barnabas looked down at his wedding ring, suddenly nervous, under Matt's steady gaze. Matthew frowned; puzzled to his father's sudden change of mood, now that Sebastian had left. He grew impatient, but sensed that it would be better to wait, and not rush him.

Barnabas walked away from his son, wanting distance between them while he thought what would be the best place to start. For ten years had waited for this moment, and now it had arrived, and he was at a loss for words. And afraid.

Afraid that, after all this time, he wouldn't be able to make his son understand.

Finally he faced his son, and looked at him steadily. "It might be better, if you sat down, Matt," he invited. "What I have to say, could take some time."

"I prefer to stand...thanks."

Barnabas nodded, and looked nervously at his wedding ring once more. Matt wasn't sure, if he really saw his hand tremble or not. The frown deepened slightly.

"Very well," continued Barnabas. "What I have to say will be hard to believe or understand, but I must ask you to try. And never forget, that I loved your mother, very very much." He took a moment, still searching for the right words, still unsure of where he should start.

Realising that Matt was growing impatient, he began, tentatively, his voice, tinged with a deep pain, and anguish. "The night your mother died...Sebastian explained, to your mother and I, that you were a Slayer, and why he was in Collinsport. While he was talking, I became more and more aware of a growing...hunger. When I finally realised what was happening, I left the cottage, on the pretence of searching for...any survivors, of the fire.

"I was aware of Petofi's presence, mocking me. Telling me that I wouldn't be able to resist, that eventually, I would have to...have to..."

Barnabas stopped, his distress event. He turned away from Matthew, and walked over to the broken bay window. He stood with his head bowed, his back to him. It was several minutes before he spoke again.

"I was searching the house, when I heard someone following me. At first, I thought it might have been some of the townspeople, still hunting me...I never thought for one moment, that it would be your mother..." Barnabas looked off into the distance, lost in thought, as he recalled that night.

He's voice caught, as he continued, with difficulty. "...i...I tried to send her away...but she wouldn't leave me...Pain...so much pain...The next thing I remember was her lying in my arms...dead."

He turned to face Matthew. He had to face him, see his reaction to his next words. He had to know.

"...I couldn't let her...be like me...so I...so...I..."

"...broke her neck," finished Matthew, his voice and expression suddenly blank.

Barnabas, not trusting himself to speak simply nodded. "Matthew...I couldn't let her rise as a vampire...surely...you can understand that?"

Matthew remained silent, watching his father closely, as he thought over when he'd just been told. Nervous tension, doubt and self-loathing washed over Barnabas, as he waited for his son to speak. Had it been enough?

Not able to stand the intensity of his gaze, or his silence, Barnabas sighed wearily, and looked down at the floor, feeling sick at heart. Had he failed again, to make him understand the agonies and torture his actions of that night had brought to them both? If not...he wasn't sure if he could continue trying. The thought of Matthew, turning his back on him completely, was too devastating to contemplate.

Matt shook his head. "There's more to it, than that," he said, staring at his father, steadily. "You're leaving something out." He moved closer to his father, and Barnabas took an unconscious step back. "What else is there?" he demanded suddenly. "What else are you hiding?"

"Matthew, I've told you everything!" Barnabas backed away from his son, his fears that he hadn't done enough, returning.

Matthew shook his head, following his father, as he backed him into a corner. "I don't believe you," he said, his face close to his father's.

"There's more to this than you're telling, isn't there?"

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Barnabas protested.

"If that was all there was too it, then why has Sebastian and Quentin, bugged me to listen to you? Petofi knew there was more to it, like the blood tests, and why did my mother, insist that you're not the enemy?" He paused as another thought came to him. "King Johnny, the Gypsy King, knew you, too. He said you were a decent sort, for a vampire..." he looked at his father, curiously, his sharp mind putting the pieces together.

Barnabas realised that he'd have to do as Sebastian had suggested; and tell Matthew the complete truth. Only then, could he ever hope to make his son understand, what had driven him that night.

He sighed, and looked down, ashamed. "Very well," he said quietly. "There is more." He returned his gaze to his son, with a defeated look, already envisioning his reaction.

"At last!" stated Matt, with exaggeration, "Finally we're getting down to the truth!"

"It's something your mother and I, never wanted you to know. A secret that I'd hoped to carry with me to the grave." He laughed a sound without humour. "The grave!" He took a moment to collect his thoughts. "You want the truth; but it will be like nothing you ever expected."

"Just get on with it!"

Barnabas glanced down at his wedding ring, gathering his thoughts. He hoped he was doing the right thing, fighting the feeling that deep down, he was about to drive his son away from him forever. "Do you remember the portrait of the original Barnabas that used to hang in the foyer of Collinwood?" he asked, without looking up.

"Of course, it's impossible to forget," said Matthew, not sure of where this was leading. "What about it?"

Barnabas flashed a brief smile, remembering with fondness, his young son's reaction to that painting. He'd just learnt to talk, and whenever he'd see the painting, he'd point at it, and proudly announce, "Da-da!" He and Julia had shared knowing smiles, waiting until Matt had been older; to explain that it was his direct ancestor. Matthew had continued to hold a fascination to the portrait.

"I remember that you were always fascinated by that painting," Barnabas said, putting his thoughts into words. He risked facing his son; he had to see the reaction of his next words, whatever the outcome. "We used to always tell you that it was a painting of my ancestor, the first Barnabas Collins. The truth is...that Barnabas Collins never went to England; there is no English branch of the family. You see, that portrait is mine."


	36. Chapter 36

Chapter 36

Sebastian returned to the cottage, deep in thought, over Barnabas' decision. How far would he go, in trying to explain to Matthew, what had happened that night? More importantly, would it work?

Sebastian sighed. It had taken years to get Matthew to even talk to his father; he had ordered, cajoled, even threatened him and nothing had worked. Then, in a space of a few months, everything had changed. Julia's ghost appearing seemed to have had the biggest effect on Matt. Until her appreance, nothing he or Barnabas or Quentin had said had made the slightest difference.

He suspected that Megan had had a lot to do with it too. Before the relationship, he'd been less enthusiastic about his training and his Slayer destiny. He understood better, now, the renewed interest, once he and Megan had become closer.

Robin had been wrong; Megan wasn't the distraction he believed her to be. It was _because_ of Megan, that he now took his duties seriously. And he had to thank him, albeit grudgingly; if he hadn't forced their hand tonight, how much longer would it have taken, before Matthew had taken it upon himself, to found out what he needed to know?

Or had it simply been his own choice; had he taken his mother's words, literally, and had only need more time to figure it out? And what of Petofi's involvement? It had been he who had ultimately turned Matthew against his father. Granted, he had watched his father break his mother's neck, and it had been a frightening experience for him. For anyone, let alone an eight-year-old child. But, Sebastian felt that without Petofi's interference, he would have eventually made Matt understand, much quicker, if he'd left the boy alone.

He turned in the direction of the Old House, wondering what was happening up there. The idea that he should have remained up there crossed his mind.

Either one of them might need his guidance, or advice. Or help, judging from past experiences, when they had tried talking to Matt. But, he also realised, that Barnabas was right; this was something he had to do alone.

He stayed where he was, lost in thought, for a few minutes longer, and then headed towards the cottage.

"You're not serious?" Matt said, his tone disbelieving, but his expression saying otherwise. "You want me to accept that you're over a...hundred and ninety five years old?"

Barnabas held his gaze. "I am the first Barnabas Collins, the only one there has ever been. Your...grandparents, are Joshua and Naomi Collins."

Matthew stared at him, his eyes wide. "How is that possible? Unless..."

"What you have read in the family history is only partly the truth, to hide the facts of what really happened. You see, Josette Du Pres came to Collinsport, to marry...me. It's true that she came form Martinique, but not to marry my Uncle Jeremiah. She came with her father, Count Andre Du Pres, and her aunt, Countess Natalie Du Pres. They brought with them, Josette's maidservant...Angelique." He paused at his introduction of Angelique, the woman that had caused so much heartbreak and destruction, all in the name of love for him.

He spoke hesitantly, choosing his words with great care. "I fell in love, with Josette, while on business in Martinique. Not knowing that Josette returned my feelings, I..." he stopped again, wondering just how much he should say, to his son. "I had...relations, with Angelique," he said, delicately, growing more and more uncomfortable by the minute.

"When I realised that Josette, felt the same as I, I asked her to be my bride, and vowed that I would be faithful to her. When Angelique arrived in Collinsport, she...made it obvious that she wanted our...relations...to continue. I refused. It wasn't until much later, that I realised she was a witch. She'd caused Josette and Jeremiah to fall in love and marry. I thought she had betrayed me, and challenged him to a duel, fatally wounding him. She caused...my sister, Sarah, to become ill, her price for curing her, was marriage."

As he entered the cottage, Sebastian sensed that he wasn't alone. He looked around the darkened cottage, trying not to give away his presence. Nothing seemed out of place. Staying close to the wall, he made his way over to his desk, and quietly unlocked one of the drawers, taking out his gun. Taking the safety off, he began making a search of the cottage.

"...so she cured my sister, and I agreed to keep my promise."

Matthew stared at his father, with a sense of shock. "So, you married this…Angelique, a servant. There's no mention of her, in the family history, why?"

"Following what happened, shortly after my marriage to Angelique, my father, decreed that no mention of her, would taint the pages of the history. It was he that also decided that I would leave for England and never return. All history would know of me, was what history told about me.

We'd only been married a few days, when I discovered that she was a witch. Everything she'd done was because she _claimed_ that she loved me. I'd killed my uncle, for a love potion!"

His voice rose in anger, at the memory. He glanced at Matthew, knowing that his confession was still far from over. He doubted so much, would his following admission push him further away from him? He wondered.

"When she discovered that I knew her secret, she turned her jealousy towards Josette, threatening to harm her, if I didn't keep her secret. I tried to warn Josette, and when Angelique found out, she tried to force me to stay with her, by harming Sarah. I…shot her," he said quietly, watching his son carefully. This was the moment he dreaded. "She thought that I had killed her, and in what she thought was her dying breath, placed a curse on me."

He straightened, and faced his son fully, raising his head, with a dignified air. His eyes never leaving he's son's face, he said in a quite voice. "I was attacked by a bat, and from that moment on, I was cursed to walk the earth as a vampire."

A noise alerted Sebastian to the presence of the intruder. He's gripped tightened on the gun, and taking a deep breath, took a quick step forward, flicked on the light, and yelled, "Hold it!"

With a gasp he lowered the gun, as he realised that the intruder he had been stalking was Megan. She screamed, and raised her arms, in surrender, crying, "Don't shoot!"

Sebastian put the safety back on his pistol. "Megan, what are doing here?" he asked, in a shaky voice. "I could have shot you just now. How did you get in?"

Recovering from her fright only slightly, she lowered her arms, and said, "Matt gave me his key. When I heard a car pull up outside, I thought it might be my father, or someone else from the village looking for trouble, so I..."

"It's all right," said Sebastian going over to her, and putting an arm around her, in comfort. "I'm sorry I frightened you. Come on, I'll make us a coffee, and we can talk."

"So this isn't the first time, it's happened," mused Matt, putting more pieces together. "So, that's what you meant about not letting my mother become like you," he said thoughtfully.

Barnabas almost sighed with relief, until Matthew's next statement. "My mother knew."

"Yes," replied Barnabas, slowly, not knowing were this was going. "She knew. The night we were married, I was...a vampire."

"Can that Mr. Oakley, really make Matt stop seeing me?" asked Megan, after five minutes staring down at her coffee.

Sebastian sighed, and laughed lightly. "No. No one can stop Matt from doing what he wants, once he's set his mind to it. Besides, it's none of Robin's business. Matt loves you a great deal Megan. In fact, you're good for him."

Her cheeks grew pink at his compliment. "He came here to cause trouble for you, though, didn't he?" she went on. "If he succeeds, you won't be Matt's Watcher any more….and if he brings in another Watcher.."

Sebastian reached out and took her hand in his. "Megan, I promise you, that that isn't going to happen," he said, seriously. "I don't plan to take this lightly. If Robin thinks he can get fired as Matt's Watcher, he's sadly mistake. If he wants a fight, he's got one."

Matt remained silent as he tried to connect everything he'd been told. The admission that his father had been a vampire when he had married his mother, shocked him to the core. He had wanted to hear the truth but he had never expected it to be anything like this.

He had always assumed that Barnabas had only been a vampire for the last ten years. Not once had he ever thought that he was nearly two hundred years old. Or that his mother had known. He found it hard to believe that she would have willingly married his father, had she known that he was a vampire.

His brow creased as another thought came to mind. Could vampires have children? He frowned deeper, as he thought back to his childhood. He's father hadn't always been a vampire...how was any of this even possible? Something nagged in the back of his mind; something to do with the blood tests.

An icy tingle crept down as his spine as something fell into place. Anger bubbled within him, fuelled by his sudden fear. "What has this got to do with the blood tests?" he suddenly demanded. "I want the truth! What has the vampire curse got to do with me and the blood tests?"

Barnabas looked down guiltily. "Your mother and I, weren't sure if...if you'd be..."

"You had a child, not knowing if it would be afflicted as a vampire!" asked Matt both furious and shocked at the same time. "How could you be so irresponsible!" he yelled.

He turned away disgusted at the idea. Another thought formed, and he turned quickly back to face the vampire. He's look was of self-hate, as he looked disappointedly at his father. "I'm not human."

"You more human than I," stated Barnabas quietly. "We didn't know what to think, when we found out that you were going to be born. All we knew was that we wanted you very much."

Matt turned fully to face his father again, his anger overcoming his fear.

Now he wasn't just angry, he felt betrayed by the two people he thought he could trust. "I've heard enough of this! I wish I'd never been born!" he hissed through clenched teeth. "And I _hate_ you!"

He turned quickly and fled the Old House.

Barnabas shouted after him, but he carried on without a backward glance.

"Matthew," he whispered desperately, as he watched his son disappear in the direction of the town. His shoulders slumped, an anguished expression on his face, as he realised that Matthew would be forever lost to him.

"You seem to have the most negative effect on him, Mr. Collins," said a voice with an English accent, making Barnabas turn at the unexpected sound.


	37. Chapter 37

Chapter 37

Having a very good idea of who his visitor was Barnabas turned away from him. "I do not wish to discuss the relationship between my son and I, with you, Mr. Oakley."

Robin raised an eyebrow. "I see that you know - ahh! I see that my estimable colleague, Sebastian has already informed you, of who I am."

"He mentioned you," Barnabas agreed, sounding weary. It was clear that he didn't want to talk, but Robin, seemed oblivious to the fact.

"Not favourably, I'm sure," commented Oakley. "But then, I'm not here to make friends. I wish to talk to you.."

Barnabas turned to face him, his gaze intent. "Mr. Oakley, I do not wish to talk to you, tonight or any other night. Nor do I wish to discuss Matthew with you. If you're here to find reasons to get rid of Sebastian, you have come to the wrong place. I will not help you. Now, please leave."

Robin wasn't going to be put off. "Sebastian is becoming far too involved with Matthew. As a Watcher, he should remain impartial. And allowing him to see this...Megan, is only one indication of that."

"Megan has been a good influence on Matthew. And I doubt anyone could stop them from seeing each other. And I don't intend to try."

"So you approve of the relationship," mused Robin, thoughtfully. "A pity, really. The relationship must end, Mr. Collins, and I'm delegating the job to you."

Barnabas stared at him, aghast. "You can't be serious? You expect me to ruin my son's relationship? You're out of your mind!"

"I'm not asking, Mr. Collins."

Barnabas' hazel eyes darkened, and a dangerous note, edged his voice. "If you think you can order me, you are greatly mistaken," he said, quietly. "I do not take orders."

Robin tut-tutted. "Come, come, Mr. Collins, this is not the Eighteenth Century. You are no longer the Lord of Manor. You will do as I say, or Sebastian will suffer the consequences."

Barnabas advanced towards Robin, quickly, and grabbed the other man's jacket, his dark eyes blazing. "I am aware that this is no longer my own century, Oakley, nor in a sense am I the Lord of the Manor as you put. But I am a friend of Sebastian's and I will not allow you, or anyone else, to malign him. Nor will I interfere with Matthew and Megan!"

The tips of his fangs were just visible as he spoke. "Now get out!"

/

With a blind rage, and tears blurring his vision, Matt ran out into the night, not caring where his feet took him. In his haste he stumbled, his arms flying out to keep his balance.

Without realising it, his blind dash brought him to his mother's grave. With a cry of rage, he screamed into the night, _"Why! Why didn't you_ _tell me!" _His cry of outrage turned into a wail, and he fell to his knees, heartbroken. "Why did you keep it from me!" he whispered, through his sobs. "Why?"

/

Belatedly Robin sensed the danger he's manner had thrust him into, and he moved towards his right pocket. Barnabas warned that Robin was out to cause trouble was ready for him, and quickly grabbed the hand that hovered over the pocket.

"I think not, Oakley," he intoned dangerously. "There will be no crosses, and no investigation, do I make myself, clear?" he said, moving his head closer to the short Englishman, his gaze growing in intensity.

/

Sebastian and Megan were on the sofa talking when Matthew finally returned to the cottage. Immediately, Sebastian knew that something was wrong.

He got to his feet, and crossed over to where Matt had stopped on entering the cottage. Megan rose wearily to her feet; also, judging from his posture that something had happened.

"Matt?" questioned Sebastian, when Matthew remained silent. His scrutiny, putting him on his guard. Then he saw his eyes, and he became concerned.

"You've been crying," he stated, concerned. "What happened?"

Matt continued to regard with silent attention, then his brows narrowed. "You've something on your glasses," he said, calmly enough.

"I have?" asked Sebastian, taking them off. Matthew's fist slammed into his mouth, the force of the blow, snapping his head to the right. The momentum, and the surprise of the attack, caused him to stumble backwards. Feet flying he fell hard on his back. Megan screamed Matt's name, but he ignored her.

Matt moved forward and roughly pulled Sebastian to his feet. Pain and shock registered on his still youthful face, and blood flowed from his bottom lip. "Matt..." he had to time to say before the Slayer pulled him closer, their noses touching. "You knew, didn't you!" he yelled. "You knew all along and you didn't tell me!"

"Matthew, I..."

"Don't lie to me!" fumed Matt, shaking him. "I've heard it all from Barnabas! You knew about the blood tests and you kept it from me!"

"Matt what's going on! What are you talking about?" broke in Megan, alarmed at Matt's anger, and sudden attack on Sebastian.

"He knows," said Matt, shaking the Watcher again. "He knows why your father calls me halfling."

Sebastian hung his head. If this was the reaction he had now, he could well imagine what it had been with Barnabas. It obviously hadn't gone well.

Megan turned to Sebastian. "What is he talking about?"

"Is this the best time to talk about this, Matt?" asked Sebastian, dabbing at his bloodied lip. He winced, slightly. He supposed he should count himself lucky that Matt hadn't it him, full force. He was quite capable of it. "Perhaps we should discuss this in private."

"No way," said Matt, his eyes gleaming. "You're not getting out of this that easily. I know why you, my mother, Uncle Nick, everyone, insisted on those blood tests, you all knew! What am I, Sebastian!"

"Let go of me, and I'll tell you," he replied quietly, looking steadily at him. Matt released him after a moment's deliberation. Then he moved over to the drinks cabinet, and poured out a brandy.

He handed it to Matt, who shook his head. "Take it," he said, "you need it. You've had quite a shock."

After a moment Matt took it, after staring down into the amber liquid a moment he took a sip, his face twisting at the taste.

"Now, we're going to discuss this, calmly and reasonably." He paused a moment, and then began again.

"Barnabas must have told you, who he really is, for you to know about the tests. But what you obviously don't know yet, is that your mother was responsible for curing him."

Matthew looked up, frowning. "Curing him? Is that even possible?"

Sebastian nodded. "I even helped her, when your father was shot with a silver bullet. It was part of Petofi's prophecy. That he would be shot with a silver bullet and that it would bring an insatiable hunger. But I digress. Your mother knew that Barnabas was a vampire, long before they married. Their relationship was turbulent at times. Often finding themselves in dangerous situations, with one of the other, sometimes both, in danger. But during it all, they never lost sight of the fact; they loved each other very much. Your father loathed what he was, and what he was forced to do.

Your mother hated it almost as much as he did, for very different reasons. When they found out about you, they were delighted, but also greatly concerned. They weren't sure if Barnabas' ailment could be transferred to any child he might have. In fact, because of what he had been, he wasn't sure if he could even have children. Added also to your mother's age, they just naturally assumed that they would remain childless.

Your presence quickly convinced them they were wrong. They loved you, and wanted you, very much. Because of her success with your father, your mother, chose to monitor you, periodically, to make sure that an abnormal cell, that was present in Barnabas' blood stream, didn't pass to you. If it did, then she would be able to work on a vaccine, to help prevent it from developing any further. They'd hoped it wouldn't happen, but knew enough to realise that they would have to tell you, one day. And they would have, if...your mother hadn't died.

"You asked what you were; the correct term is a dhampir; a child of a vampire father, and human mother. They have the ability to track down vampires. Much like a Slayer. The thing is, however, that dhampirs are better at it. However, Gil Phillips is wrong when he calls you a halfling; you're more human than you realise. The frequent blood tests, that you hate so much, have shown that you haven't inherited the abnormal cell that your parents so feared. There's no evidence that you will. I think it would have shown up by now, if you were. I admit that I was concerned, after you were stabbed, and you were given blood transfusions. After your first encounter with Petofi, and you were ill for a few days.

Tests showed that something was happening, but you were fighting it off, remarkably well. The last test you had at Clearwater was clear. There's something I want you to read, that may help you, understand, a little better."

He rose to his feet, and walked over to his desk, He picked up a book, and crossed back over to Matt.

"What is it?" he wanted to know.

"The true history of the Collins family. It's a true account of what happened to your father. I have other volumes that you should read after this one. Hopefully this will help you put everything into place."

He stopped a curious expression on his face. Suddenly he said, "There's something I have to do. Matthew, read this volume, and try and understand. I'll be back as soon as I can."

/

A knock disturbed Matt from his reading. He glanced irritably at the door, and then went to answer it. Robin Oakley stood outside, a somewhat embarrassed smile on his face.

"What do you want, now?" asked Matt, irritably.

"I was hoping to see Sebastian," he said, letting himself into the cottage.

"He's not here, and I don't like the way you just barge into a person's home. In fact, I don't like you at all."

Robin turned his mouth open to say something, when he closed it abruptly and sniffed. "What's that?" he asked curiously.

Matthew had noticed it, too, and looked wildly about the room. "Mother?" he asked, looking for any evidence to her presence. The perfume waxed and waned, and then a book, pulled by invisible hands, moved out from a row of books about midway in the bookcase.

Robin's eyes widened, and turning to Matthew, said, "Tell Sebastian that I have finished my review. I shall be in touch, Goodnight."

Matthew barely noticed his departure. He hurried over to the bookcase and the book that stood out from the rest of the row, and began to read.

/

"I got here as fast as I could, Barnabas," said Sebastian as he entered the drawing room of the Old House.

Barnabas turned away from the empty fireplace, a smile of greeting almost showed itself on his pale face. "So, you heard me," was all he said, looking down at his hands. Sebastian thought he looked weary, with his slumped shoulders. He was about to break the silence between them, when Barnabas spoke again. "I tried, Sebastian," he said, sounding depressed, and defeated. "I thought telling him the truth, would help him. All I've done is turn him against me. I've lost him, Sebastian. He left here, in a rage..." he stopped, his eyes narrowing. "What happened to you?" he asked, seeing the cut lip.

Sebastian touched his split lip and winced, slightly. He grinned, somewhat painfully. "Matthew's anger."

"You've seen him?" said Barnabas, straightening, hope lighting his tone. "When?"

"About a half hour ago. He came in swinging, demanding answers. I think I explained things well enough. I give him the true history of the family to read. Hopefully, it will verify what you've obviously told him."

Barnabas looked down. "I doubt it," he said quietly, once more sounding defeated. "I know there is no longer any hope for me, with Matthew." He sighed, a tired sound, reflected by his expression of utter defeat and hopelessness. "I've lost him, Sebastian. It's about time I faced the truth. He will never forgive me. He has even more reason to hate me. I don't blame him."

He glanced towards the bay window, and the lightening sky. "I had hoped that I would be a better father, to my son, than my own father was to me," he said, anguished. "It's not a happy thought, to realise that I'm more like him, than I realised."

"You're nothing like Joshua, Barnabas. You have been and still are a good father, to Matt. I've seen it, and in time he will remember it, and realise it too."

Barnabas shook his head. "No he won't. It's gone to far for that." He straightened suddenly, standing his full height, and turned to the Englishman. "I've had enough, Sebastian," and gestured to a table, he hadn't noticed when he'd first returned to the Old House. Resting on it, were a hammer and stake. Sebastian turned back to face Barnabas, his expression reluctant resignation.

"Remember your promise," was all his said, holding Sebastian's gaze steadily.


	38. Chapter 38

Chapter 38

Sebastian walked over to the table, and picked up the hammer and stake. He stared at them, a moment, twisting the stake from side to side, as if examining it. Finally, without a word he replaced them on the table. He looked at Barnabas with all the respect he could muster. His throat worked, but he didn't speak. Finally he nodded, and looked down quickly. He sighed, a watery sound.

Barnabas stared at him sympathetically, and put a companionable hand on his shoulder. "You have always been my friend, Sebastian," he said quietly. "But we must both face facts, that Matthew will never understand, or forgive me. What I ask of you is hard on you, I know. I wish things could be different, but they're not. I miss her," he stopped, unable to continue, and looked down at his feet.

Somehow, Sebastian found the strength to speak. A deep sorrow tinged his accent. "I will keep my promise, Barnabas," he said, just managing to keep his emotions in check. "I'm only sorry that it has to end like this. Despite what others think, you're a good man, Barnabas. And I repeat what I said before; I'm proud to call you my friend." He paused a beat then asked, "When would you…" but found he was unable to finish the sentence. He looked away.

"I think the sooner the better," said Barnabas quietly, glancing towards the brightening sky once more. "For you at least. Don't grieve, for me Sebastian. Matthew is right in one respect; I died, the night Julia did."

Sebastian turned to face him, his eyes red, his cheeks wet, not caring that he see. "She was a remarkable woman," he agreed. "I'm sorry, that I knew her only a short time. It'll be dawn soon, we should go."

Barnabas looked over his shoulder, once more, then looked around the drawing room, once last time. Finally, turning to the Watcher, he stuck out his hand. "You're a brave man, Sebastian."

Sebastian shook his head. "Now, there you're wrong, Barnabas. I doubt I've met a braver man than yourself."

Together they moved towards the basement door, their voices low.

Once they were out of sight, a shadow detached itself from the darkness, and watched after them.

/

When Sebastian returned ten minutes after dawn, he was surprised to see that he wasn't alone.

Matthew held the stake in his hand, looking at it thoughtfully. He glanced up at Sebastian, before returning his glance to the stake.

"Matt, what…" he asked, wondering how long he had been standing there.

Matt put the stake down carefully. "What did you promise him, Sebastian?" he asked curiously, raising an eyebrow.

So, he had been there long enough for him to hear at least a part of their conversation. Sebastian watched him closely. The angry teenager was gone, replaced by, - what – exactly? Sebastian wasn't sure if he trusted this new mood of his.

When he remained silent, Matt returned his attention to the hammer and stake. "From these, I get the idea that you were going to destroy him. Is this what you came back for?"

Sebastian thought it better not to deny it. If he knew this much, then he'd obviously been here, long enough to hear most of what they'd talked about.

"I promised him peace," he admitted, walking slowly to the table. "And it's a promise I intend to keep," he said, firmly.

Matt turned from the Watcher's unrelenting gaze. The anguish he'd heard in his father's voice as he spoke echoed in his mind. He swallowed as he looked at the stake, twisting it slowly in his hands.

"I must ask you to break that promise, Sebastian," he said quietly.

When he finally returned his gaze to Sebastian, he noticed a sudden change in him. Admittedly it was small, almost subtle, but there all there same.

Past experience had hardened Sebastian to Matt's mood swings. "You can ask, all you like," he replied, letting his irritation show. "I take my promises as seriously as I did my Watcher's Vows."

"Just once, forget your Vows," said Matt, determinedly. "The truth is...I want to talk to him." He looked away again, from Sebastian's searching look.

"Why?" he demanded. "Don't you think you've put him through enough? You didn't believe him, so why continue this?" he was angry, and he was determined that he knew it.

"You don't want to do it, so why are you making such a fuss?"

West took in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. "It's obvious that you were here, hiding some place, listening in. Don't bother denying it Matt. Figure it out yourself." He made to pick up the stake and hammer, but Matt was quicker.

"I think I'll take these," he said, a smirk touching the corners of his mouth. It faded, quickly, and a strange gleam shone in his penetrating eyes. "Barnabas will understand you couldn't go through with it," he said after a few minutes, and stake and hammer in hand, left the Old House.

/

It was late afternoon when Matt burst into the cottage, with an excited air. Sebastian was writing a letter, and looked up briefly, before returning his attention back to his writing, without acknowledging him.

Matt ignored the snub; he was far too excited.

"I've found it, Sebastian!" he cried, happily. "I've found it!"

"Good for you," muttered Sebastian, with disinterest, as he continued writing.

At last, the lack of interest got through to him, and his calmed down slightly. "Well, you could be a little more enthusiastic about it, Sebastian."

With an irritated sigh, Sebastian put his pen down, with a flourish, letting the teenager, know that he was far from happy about being disturbed. He took his glasses off, and rubbed his eyes, then went about cleaning the lenses of his glasses. "It would help matters, if you elaborated on what it was that you've found," he said, his attention fixated on his polishing.

Matt looked down, all excitement gone. "I'm sorry about last night, Sebastian. I shouldn't have hit you. I-I'm sorry."

Sebastian replaced his glasses, and clapped his hands together, slowly and deliberately. Then turned he grey eyes to him, slightly darker than normal, but not the thunderheads that usually betrayed his anger. "Well?" he asked impatiently. "I'm waiting."

"I've found what could be Dane's coffin. It was carefully hidden in the basement ruins of Collinwood."

"You searched there," Sebastian commented.

"Yeah, but not as deep as I found the coffin. It was extremely well hidden. I wouldn't have found it, if it hadn't been.." he stopped suddenly, and Sebastian looked at him curiously.

"If it had been for whom?" he asked pointedly.

Matt became agitated. "Forget it," he said rising to his feet. "I just thought you'd want to know."

Sebastian rose to his feet. "I'd like to see this coffin. Make sure that it's Dane's."

"Who else could it belong to? It certainly wouldn't be Barnabas'."

"I'd like to see it all the same. By the way, Robin stopped by while you were out." Something in the way he said it, told Matt that he had also noticed the strangeness about him.

"The guy is a whack job. He called by last night, looking for you."

"He mentioned it. He's called the investigation off, so I'll be sticking around, for a while yet. Thanks to Barnabas, and his little hypnotic spell."

"That figures," mumbled Matt under his breath. Loudly he said, "Well, do you want to see this coffin or not?"

Grabbing his jacket, Sebastian followed Matt out in pursuit of the elusive coffin.

/

Sebastian stared at the coffin, his face streaked with dirt. He wiped a hand across his forehead, palming off sweat. "I see what you mean about been very well hidden. I certainly wouldn't have thought to look this far."

He opened the lid, obviously finding the coffin empty. He gave a low whistle. "Curious," he mused. "See this, it's lead," he said, pointing to the interior. "It could explain why you couldn't sense him."

Sebastian looked thoughtful. "But, if the coffin is lead lined, why didn't you sense him when he wasn't in the coffin?" He turned to Matt again. "How did you find this?"

Matt looked uncomfortable, under his guardian's intense stare. He swallowed then said quietly, "My mother."

/

Dusk approached, Barnabas felt awareness invigorate his body. He lay in his coffin, still not sure if this were real or imagined. His sharp hearing picked up a movement, and the soft scurrying of a rodent; a mouse probably was his first thought.

He slowly opened his eyes, staring at the darkness, as his other senses came into focus.

A muffled thud came from within the wooden confines of the coffin, and a second later the lid was raised. "No! Not another night!" he wailed.

"_SEBASTIAN_!" The third syllable of the Englishman's name rose higher filled with a mixture of rage and disappointment. He had failed him. He had been so certain that this time the promise of peace had been genuine.

He was about to climb out of the coffin, when another sound, caught his attention. His sharp eyes swivelled to that direction, fangs descended.

Someone was here. "Who's there!" he demanded, "show yourself!"

He rose with dignity from his wooden prison as a figure detached itself from the denser shadows.

"Matthew!" he said surprised to see him there. He watched him warily; his son had been the last person he had expected to see.

Matthew stared levelly at his father. "Don't blame Sebastian for not keeping his promise," he said, stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets. "I prevented him from keeping it."


	39. Chapter 39

Chapter 39

_Wanted one good hearted woman_

_To forgive imperfection in the man that she loves_

_Wanted just one chance to tell her_

_How much he still loves her_

_He can't be sorry enough_

"Wanted" Alan Jackson

Barnabas looked bleakly at his son. "You hate me that much," he stated looking down at the coffin. He felt something inside him shrink, and fade.

He reached out and lowered the coffin lid. "There are other ways...unless you plan to stop me," he said sadly, weariness heavy in his tone.

Matthew watched him, closely. It seemed that his father seemed to shrink, somehow seem smaller. Again, the anguish he'd heard in his voice when he'd spoken to Sebastian earlier that morning, returned to haunt him. "I found Dane's coffin," he said, deciding not to answer his father's question.

"It was very carefully hidden in the ruined basement of Collinwood. Sebastian and I, destroyed it."

Barnabas wasn't surprised that his son refused to answer his question. He sighed, his expression one of deep sadness and weariness. His baring one of hopelessness. "How did you manage to find the coffin?" he asked, intrigued despite how he felt.

Matthew stared at him very directly. It was a moment before he spoke, and when did, Barnabas looked at him sharply. "My mother...appeared to me last night. She...talked of her love for you, and give me a dressing down for doubting you. She was pretty angry." He stopped and looked around the hidden room. He looked back at his father. "Tell me one thing; did you ever, hurt her or try to hurt her, before that night?"

Barnabas stared at his son, for a moment, and then bowed his head, knowing that he could not deny it. He looked up, hesitated a moment, thinking over carefully what he was about to say. Rejected his first and second thoughts, and finally settled for, "If you really want to know, then may I suggest we go upstairs? This is hardly the place to discuss your mother, and it...depresses me." He looked about the room, a strained look on his face.

"You'll tell me the truth?" asked Matt, making no move to leave.

"I have tried to tell you the truth, for ten years, Matthew," he said quietly. "I only wish that it was what you really wanted to hear."

He strode purposefully passed him, expecting him to prevent him from leaving, but it didn't come. Instead, after a few seconds, Matt turned and followed him.

/

Barnabas stood near to the ruined bay window, staring out into the night.

Matthew stood a few paces away from him; hands stuffed deep into his jacket pockets.

Barnabas stood with his back to him, when his spoke his voice was low, but Matt could still hear him well enough.

"I first met your mother in 1967. She'd come to Collinwood, pretending to be a family historian, wanting to do research into the family. In reality, she was a doctor, who claimed that I could be cured. I didn't believe her at first, doubted everything she ever told me." Barnabas paused, thinking over his next words, carefully.

He bowed his head in shame. "I didn't trust her, to keep my secret, despite her frequent requests for me to do so. I found her...a meddlesome and domineering woman. She...frightened me with her strength, and independence. She was quite different from the women of my own time. Women knew their place, and left the men to do what needed to be done."

His voice had grown wistful, and despite himself, Matthew found himself being drawn into his father's narrative.

Barnabas' voice dropped, and despite his sharp hearing, Matt found himself straining to hear. Barnabas turned to face his son, resolved to look him in the eye. "I...I'm ashamed to...admit..." he looked down, ashamed, unable to face him after all. It came to him how suddenly ridiculous all this was.

Matthew was volatile when it came to harm ever coming to Julia, and now here he was admitting that he had tried to kill her on more than one occasion.

Matthew's dark eyes regarded him steadily. His silence was deafening, and Barnabas grew uncomfortable under both the scrutiny and the lack of response. He closed his eyes, and pressed on, sounding crushed and miserable.

"I began to realise that she was in love with me, despite all of...of my…threats. I found the whole idea utter preposterous, and I told her so. It hurt her very deeply, and as I finally began to trust her, and realise that she wouldn't betray me, I came to regret those words. I don't know when it was exactly, that I began to feel something more than friendship for her. Only that I knew that I would never let any harm come to her. I would even go so far as to kill anyone that did..."

/

Barnabas continued to talk, until the brightening sky heralded the arrival of yet another dawn. He glanced apprehensively towards the eastern sky, and then turned back to Matthew. "She made me human," he continued, quickly, watching the sky. "Even when I was a vampire, she…made me human..." he bowed his head.

He had talked through the night; a part of him couldn't believe that Matthew had stayed this long. He'd expected him to turn and leave, without a backward glance, as had happened so often, or else their talk would end in an argument, and the inevitable fight.

Instead, he'd stayed, and with the exception of a few questions here and there, had listened in silence. Barnabas wasn't sure if it was an encouraging sign or not.

Matthew glanced briefly at the pink tinted sky, and then turned back to his father. He looked nervous. No doubt he was wondering what his reaction to all of this would be. What he'd heard so far had only confirmed his mother's version, and he had quickly recognised that some of the explanations also confirmed what he'd read in the official history, Sebastian had given him.

Once more, Barnabas glanced, nervously towards the east. How much longer would Matthew keep him there? How much more, did he want to hear? Another thought came to mind, and he felt a sudden fear at the thought. What if it were his purpose to keep him, until the sun's rays fell completely on him?

It wouldn't be the first time, and he could only count himself lucky that it had only been his hand...if _that_ was being lucky.

"Matt," he began tentatively, slight panic edging his voice.

Matt, seeming lost in thought, visibly shook himself, at the sound of his name. "It'll be dawn soon," Barnabas, tried again now that he had the teenager's full attention, and glanced out the broken window frame to emphasize his point.

Matthew sighed, glancing towards the window. "Yeah, you'd better go," he said, turning to look at him sharply. "But tonight, you tell me about Dane."


	40. Chapter 40

Chapter 40

_Wanted one good-hearted woman_

_To forgive imperfection in the man that she loves_

_Wanted just one chance to tell her_

_How much he still loves her_

_He can't be sorry enough_

"Wanted" Alan Jackson

It was several hours after full dark, before Matt returned to the Old House. Barnabas was standing by the window, deep in thought, when footfalls announced Matt's presence.

It had been just over half an hour, since Sebastian had left, knowing how Barnabas felt about being betrayed, he had felt the need to explain why he hadn't followed through with his promise.

He had been nervous and awkward, and he had tried to put the Englishman at ease, and convince him, that he understood, but Barnabas remained unconvinced that Sebastian believed him. He had left with a parting of thanks, over his "help" with Robin Oakley. Leaving Barnabas with much to think about.

"You seem surprised to see me," said Matt, braking into his thoughts.

"I had begun to think, that you had changed your mind," Barnabas agreed.

"I told you that I would come. You were going to explain about Dane."

Barnabas sighed, sounding weary. "Very well," he said, moving over to the empty fireplace. "But before I do, will you answer a few questions?"

Matt rolled his eyes heavenward, and said, "Go on," in a bored tone.

"Just where is all of this leading?" he wanted to know. "You've never been so willing to listen to anything I've tried to explain in the last ten years."

Matt looked down at the debris-littered floor. "I don't know," he said after a few minutes silence. "My mother has something to do with it, I guess. When she appeared to me last night, and backed up what Sebastian had told me about the blood tests, and then showed me the family history, of 1840, I just wanted to see it you were capable of telling the truth."

"If I have ever lied to you in the past, it was because I wanted to protect you. Your mother and I had always intended to tell you the truth, eventually, little by little. We were never able to, Dane and Petofi, saw to that."

"Quentin hinted that Dane almost cost you your life. That there was a disagreement between you," pushed Matt.

"To explain about Dane, then I need to explain the final few days of 1840."

"Or how you can say you loved my mother so much, when you claimed you loved Angelique, after all?" asked Matt, with a raised eyebrow.

Barnabas gave him an odd look, and then looked down at his hands, playing with his wedding ring. "I had my reasons for that," he explained, quietly.

"Julia had been victimised by a vampire twice before, and when Roxanne almost succeeding in killing her, I knew I had to act. From the moment Angelique had arrived at Collinwood, she had threatened Julia more than once. Convinced that we...were more than friends, she set about her revenge. When I finally found Julia in the abandoned lighthouse, and discovered that Roxanne was the vampire preying on her, I knew that Angelique was responsible, and wouldn't stop until Julia was dead. So, I had to find a way to protect her, and prevent any more harm to her.

My secret was about to be discovered when Angelique lifted the curse from me. When Gerard Stiles came looking for me, one morning, shortly after dawn, I surprised him by appearing in daylight. Angelique rarely if ever, did anything without a price, and after Julia had returned to Collinwood, I asked her what that price was. It was with a great deal of surprise, and even more suspicion, when she announced that there was no price.

When I returned to Collinwood, Julia begged me not to trust her. I lied to her, and told her, that I did trust Angelique that I had to. She warned me that anything I felt towards Angelique would be a mistake, and that she would use her powers against me once more. Before she could stop herself, she said she cared too much for me, realising what she had said, she changed direction and said I was a good friend and she didn't want to lose me.

I knew that she had come, as close as she ever had, to admitting that she loved me. In that moment, I had wanted to take her in my arms and tell her that I loved her too, but I couldn't, not with Angelique roaming the world. She saw something, in my manner, a glance, an expression, to what I was thinking. It seemed enough.

A few days later, Angelique was fatally shot by Lamar Trask, and I "admitted" that I loved her. All along, the only woman I was thinking of, was Julia Hoffman. When I told her what I'd done, I knew I'd hurt her, very much; after all we'd been through with the witch.

When we returned to 1971, I remained free of the curse. Julia had seemed to understand, what I had tried to say in 1840, and as my continuing good health continued, we grew closer. Then as a surprise, I designed and commissioned a special wedding ring for her. I sent Willie to Bangor, to have it made. But a few weeks after our return, the curse returned. Julia worked tirelessly, as usual to try and a find a cure, but three months later, she was no closer to a solution.

One night, after I had awakened, I found her, working, as usual on a cure, and I noticed how tired she looked. I mentioned visiting Collinwood, and asked her to come with me. She refused, saying she had far too much work to do.

I insisted, and we went to Collinwood together. It was there, that we met Dane Spencer, for the first time."

Barnabas paused, gathering his thoughts. His mind drifting twenty years in the past, and his very first meeting with Dane. How could he hope to make Matt understand, how he'd come to feel towards Julia, without sounding like a jealous rival? He remembered that he'd thought exactly the same thing when he'd proposed to her.

"Julia was delighted on seeing him. It turned out they'd been friends since childhood, and had kept in touch, after Julia had left for medical school.

Everyone seemed quite taken by him. On being introduced, Dane and I took an instant and mutual dislike to each other. It was nothing I could quite put my finger on, specifically. It was instinctive. For Julia's sake, we were polite to each other in her presence.

Within a very short time, he was installed as a guest at Collinwood, and devoted his time to entertaining Julia, and buying her gifts. Within a week, she had developed a serum to help...curb...my cravings, until she could find a more permanent cure. Almost nightly, Dane took her to dinner, and I rarely saw her.

When I tried to question her about Dane, she was vague, as though she didn't want to talk about him. So I...sent Willie...to follow them. He was caught, and Dane came to the House, ready for a confrontation. He told me, rather smugly, that he and Julia had once been engaged. Then he asked me, if I was aware that Julia was in love with me. I replied that I was, but I failed to see where his line of questioning was leading.

He thought she was wasting her life, and her talents, for a man she didn't deserve. That he'd seen the veiled anger when they were together or the glances I'd give her, when I thought she or no one else was looking. That I was in fact jealous.

He warned me, that he'd do everything he could to take Julia away from me, and make her see me for what I was. He left shortly after that, and asked her to marry him, that very night.

A few days, after the confrontation, with Dane, he returned to the Old House, demanding to see me. When he couldn't find me, he told Willie, that he intended to keep Julia away from me, and he had better do the same with me. By now, I'd begun to realise that the serum was no longer working. The pain of the injections wasn't fading, as Julia had said it would, and I could feel the...need...for blood, growing stronger nightly. Eventually, I became so ill, Willie had no choice but to go to Collinwood, and get Julia.

The first person he ran into was Dane; and he refused him to see her. It ended with Willie physically being thrown out of Collinwood, and Julia none the wiser to my condition. Meanwhile, Dane managed to convince her that everything was fine, and took her out for the day. By the time they got back, it was dark, and I'd grown increasingly worse. This time, when Willie went for her, he was able to talk to her directly.

I was in immense pain, barely knew what was going on around me. Julia thought that I might have taken blood, but that was soon ruled out. Dane came to the Old House, on the pretence that he didn't believe that I was as ill, as Willie had tried to make out.

Much later, Willie, told her that Dane had stopped him from getting her earlier that morning. She was furious. For a few nights, I was weak from the allergic reaction to the serum, and it seemed that I would never be cured. I was close to giving up on ever being free. But Julia was never one for giving up on a challenge. After a blood test, it was revealed that a cell, was responsible for the serum not working, and she traced it back to Jeb's curse. She blamed herself, for allowing herself to be distracted by Dane. Otherwise, she was certain that she would have seen it sooner. She told me that he'd asked her to marry him.

I couldn't believe it. I didn't want to believe it. She'd become an important part of my life, over the years. When I'd realised how much I loved her, I'd wanted to protect her from the curse. I'd seen too many of those I'd loved die, because of it, that I didn't want lose her to it. But, despite my efforts, it seemed I would lose her to another man, all because I had waited too long to tell her how I truly felt.

I asked her if she'd given him her answer, and when she again almost admitted that she loved me, I knew that there was still a small chance. I told her that what I'd said about Angelique wasn't true; that I'd lied to protect her, that I loved her very, very much, that I didn't deserve her, or her love. Finally, I understood what she'd been trying to tell me for years. Finally, I could understand what it meant to love and be loved. I asked her to marry me, and when she accepted without hesitation, for that moment, it didn't matter that I was a vampire."

Once more, Barnabas stopped, and played with his wedding ring, trying to get his thoughts in order. It had been far too long since he had to think about those early days, before he and Julia had married.

Once more, Matt had listened without interruption. Had he explained enough about Dane, to help his son, understand? Had he been able to impress upon him, that he had genuinely loved Julia, despite saying the same thing about Angelique? It was one thing to talk about it, in reflection. They had lived through it, but Matthew hadn't. How would it seem to him?

Barnabas risked a glance at his son, dreading what he might see.

Matthew looked deep in thought. His expression seemed to have softened, to the cold glance; Barnabas had become accustomed to. Or could it simply be the dim, flickering light from the candles? Had he made a difference, he wondered. The uncertainty was unbearable.

His vampire senses warned, once more, of dawn's approach, and he glanced nervously towards the eastern sky. When he turned back to Matthew, the Slayer had vanished.


	41. Chapter 41

Conclusion

A/N _Just want to thank all my readers and reviews. There is a character death in this final part. Please don't hate me for it :)_

Sebastian awoke to sounds of movement, coming from his study. He listened for a seconds, still not quite awake. The sound of movement came again, followed by a crash, and muttered oath, followed by more sounds, of searching.

He rose quickly from the bed, and grabbed his bathrobe. Before reaching automatically for the pistol, he kept on the beside locker. It was only when he's hand fell on empty space, did he realise that he'd left the weapon in the study.

Remembering that the desk in the living room, held a spare revolver, he stealthily left his bedroom, and grabbed the gun from the desk. Priming the hammer, he headed towards his study.

His eyes widened in surprise, in finding that his "intruder" was Matthew, frantically searching every nook and cranny. The study was littered with overturned drawers, papers and books. As he watched, more were discarded on the growing pile, as Matt went about his task, unaware that he had an observer.

"Just what do you hope to find?" asked Sebastian, actually succeeding in making Matthew jump; not an easy task.

Matt swallowed guiltily, and then continued with his search. "I know you have them here, some place," he said, distractedly.

"It would help knowing exactly _what_ you were looking for? Wouldn't it have been easier to simply _ask_ me for what you want?"

Matt straightened up, and faced the Watcher. "You've told me about the Council and the Slayer's heritage, but there must be records of some kind. Files or papers? I want to see the file on my parents and mine."

"They're private and confidential. I can't give them to you," said Sebastian, shaking his head.

"Come on, Sebastian! Since when has that ever stopped you from sharing stuff!" he complained. "I need to know, if he..." he stopped and looked down at his hands.

Sebastian studied him a moment. "You doubt if his love for her was genuine? I can assure you, Matthew, it was. They were devoted to each other, long before they married. And when you came along, they were devoted parents too. I wish I'd gotten to know Julia better than I did, and not just through what Intel and books had told me."

"I have to know, Sebastian, please," he begged. "If he can say he loved Angelique in one breath, and my mother in another..."

"I can't give you access to the dossiers on you, or your parents, but I can give you this." He picked his way, through the book strewn floor, and after glancing at a row of books, Matt had yet to search, pulled out the third volume, and handed it to the teenager.

Matt frowned. "1995?" he asked, puzzled.

"Read it," encouraged Sebastian, and the cast a disapproving eye around the rubble that was his study. "And when you've finished reading that, I'd like my study back in one piece."

/

Matt sat curled up on the sofa, in the study, engrossed in the book Sebastian had given him. He was almost done reading when he paused in turning the page over. His eyes narrowed, and though he was alone in the room, he began to read aloud.

"_Barnabas faced Julia, though she remained standing with her back to him, unable to face him, after her betrayal, "look at me, Julia," he said, in a commanding voice. "Look at me! You can hear me; you will do as I say! Now look at me!" he ordered, forcefully_.

_As he exerted his powers over her, making her bend to his will, Julia slowly turned to face the man she betrayed. He continued to exert his power over her, and finally in a quite voice, she nodded her head, and said, "You can escape."_

_Still looking at her, his eyes hypnotic, he said, in a gentle voice, compared to his authoritatively tones only moments before, "Not without you."_

_Julia looked away briefly, shaking her head, but Barnabas still held the greater power over her, as she looked back at him. "You, you can't take me with you," she said her voice just above a whisper._

_Barnabas took at step towards her, their faces only inches apart. "Never without you," said Barnabas softly, shaking his head."_

Matt looked up from his reading, as he closed the book. Then, he slowly rose to his feet, and carefully put the book back from where Sebastian had gotten it, and as though in a daze, he began cleaning the study.

/

Darkness had fallen when Matthew entered the Old House. The house seem deserted, more so, since there were no candles lit. He glanced towards the basement door; his sharp hearing attuned to the slightest sound. Hearing nothing, nor sensing his father's presence he walked over to the basement door, and opened, descending a few of the steps. Still nothing.

If Barnabas had left the Old House, where would the likeliest place be? Then suddenly he knew. Turning quickly he climbed back up the steps, and hurried from the house.

/

As he approached the grave, he knew that he had guessed right, as he saw the caped outline of his father, standing with his head bowed, at the graveside. He watched and waited for a few moments, before continuing towards the grave.

"I thought I'd find you here, when you weren't at the Old House," he said, coming up behind his father, who whirled, his cape flying as he did so.

"M-Matthew!" he gasped. He looked from his son, to the grave and back to his son, alarm, and a trace of fear on his face, as he recalled the last time, Matthew had found him here. "I-I-I had t-to come," he stammered, in explanation.

He gazed at his son, warily, wondering if he had ruined the uneasy truce between them. He was torn between the urge to stand his ground, and the urge to flee. He didn't want to fight with him any more. He bowed his head; his hands gripping the sliver head of his cane, tightly.

"I-I'll go," he said quietly, not bothering to even argue with him, "I'll be at the Old House, if you decide you want to talk." he turned to leave before it came to blows.

He'd only taken a few steps, when Matthew, said, "Wait."

Barnabas paused in mid step, thinking that this would be the start of the inevitable fight between them. Wariness descended over him, as he waited silently, for whatever was about to happen.

"You grieve, for her too," Matt replied, surprising him, completely.

Barnabas turned his surprise still on his face. Matt, staring after him, turned slowly, to face the grave, stepping to one side, as he did so.

The gesture was obvious. Barnabas returned to the grave and his son's side, surprise still registered on his pallid face. Matthew winced slightly, but remained where he was.

"My presence causes you pain," said Barnabas, quietly, seeing the quickly concealed grimace.

"I can live with it," Matt stated.

For twenty minutes father and son, remained by the graveside, mourning together, for the first time in ten years.

/

They walked back to the Old House, together, in silence. As Matt went about lighting the various candles, Barnabas pulled up two chairs, he'd brought down from one of the rooms that had been relatively unscathed from the fire, or ransacked. Then he lit a fire, in the long disused fireplace.

Once the fire was going, Matt seated in the chair, nearest the bay window, asked, "What happened after, you asked mother to marry you?"

Barnabas gazed into the fire, his fingers laced together across his stomach. "I wanted to wait until a cure was found, before we married. She deserved more than I could give her, as I was. But, as she pointed out, it didn't matter, the same amount of time would pass between dawn and dusk, whether we were married or not. She'd done so much for the family without any thanks from me, so I quickly agreed to marry quickly. Dawn was approaching, and I asked to go with me to the...coffin room. I asked her to wait for me at dusk, and she agreed."

"An honour, indeed," said Matt, dryly, knowing how his father was, about being observed anywhere near the coffin.

Barnabas gazed into the fire, silently, memories flooding back. Finally he looked down, twisting the wedding ring, nervously. "The following night, she was waiting for me, as she promised, filled with doubts that I had changed my mind. I assured her I hadn't. It had been three nights, since I'd been ill, and the first one since I'd any need..."

"What happened?" asked Matt, interrupting, knowing what he had been about to say.

"She understood," he said with a sigh, " and left me alone, in the basement. I won't lie to you, Matthew. It was hard, not to climb those steps, and seek her out. I cannot always...control the urges...I vowed that I would not hurt her, and went deeper into the basement, trying to put as much distance between us. I found a rat...and..." Once more, Barnabas stopped, and Matthew thought the expression of revulsion and disgust on his father's face, would have been funny under other circumstances.

/

Barnabas continued, explaining of how he had changed his mind, about marrying while he was still a vampire. But once more, he allowed her to talk him into it. Of telling the family, and Dane overhearing. Later finding out that Dane had intended to ruin the wedding, only to allow it to continue, promising to return in the future.

Finally the discussion came to the night of Julia's death. For the most part, Barnabas' voice had been steady, wavering only on the argument, and her subsequent disappearance. Matthew leaned forward in his chair, watching his father, closely.

Suddenly, Barnabas rose to his feet, and head bowed, crossed to the bay window. His voice was unsteady, and filled with a deep pain.

"...as I walked through the woods, I could hear Petofi's mocking laughter. From the clearing the Old House didn't look too badly damaged, so I went in. The house was a shambles, furniture had been overturned, and it was obvious that it had been ransacked. I walked through the house, seeing evidence of the fire, and what the angry villagers had done, searching for me.

The pain consumed me; it was all I could think about. I heard someone following me, and I thought it may have been the villagers, trying to their luck in hunting me down. I never for one moment thought it would be Julia.

Later, Sebastian told me, that he had managed to persuade her to stay at the cottage with you. When she realised that you were missing..."

Barnabas whirled to face his son; his face anguished, his voice tortured, wracked with grief, and horror. "I begged her to go! But she wouldn't leave me! The next thing I remember...was her lying in...in my arms...dead!"

Despair contorted his features, desperate to make his son understand. "I couldn't let her be like me...I couldn't let her go through what she must night after night! I loved her too much to allow that to happen. I always thought I wanted a bride to share eternity...but when I had the chance...I couldn't do it...I loved her too much...Matthew I did it to save her life!"

Matthew stared at his father's grief-stricken, expression. Then suddenly turned away.

"Sebastian was right," he said quietly. He turned to face his father, his cheeks wet with tears.

"It was my fault after all."

Barnabas was at his son's side, immediately. "No, Matthew. Petofi is the one. Until that night, you had never disobeyed us. Petofi lured you out into the night, so that Julia would come here. I don't blame you, and neither must you." Then he did the only thing he could think of, he hugged his son.

Matthew allowed the contact for only a few moments, before the close proximity, made the pain in his head too much to bear. With a slight grimace still on his face, he pulled away.

"I've told you everything," said Barnabas, watching him carefully. "It's a lot to ask you, but..."

"I don't know...there's a lot to think about."

"I see," said Barnabas looking down, once more, his jaw clenching. "You still doubt everything," he added, his voice catching. He had done everything he could to make him understand, and nothing had worked. There was no hope, after all.

"I need more time - a few nights," continued Matt.

Bleakly, Barnabas simply nodded, and then vanished.

It wasn't until three nights later, that Barnabas saw Matthew again.

/

Awkwardness between them, talk was strained, as they both skirted around the real issue between them. Finally, Barnabas could stand it no longer, and said, "You said you need time - and I understand that this wasn't what you expected to hear…but.. I miss her," he said simply.

Matthew stared at his father - a man he had denied for ten years – and suddenly understood. It was in his bearing, his voice, his expression, but mostly it was his eyes. In the welter of his emotions and longing, it was in his eyes, it shone the brightest. It was a hunger, a need far more powerful than any craving for blood to be with her again.

Finally Matt looked down, from that despairing gaze. When he looked up again, his own eyes were bright with unshed tears, his throat worked, but he could utter no sound. He stared at his father, for a second or two, and had to look away as he felt the tears fall. But as he turned away he nodded slightly.

Barnabas raised his eyebrows in surprise, at the gesture, still not certain if he had really seen it. "You'll...forgive me?" he asked, almost inaudibly.

Again, the slight nod of the head, and Barnabas knew that he had not been mistaken the first time. The familiar perfume permeated the air, and Barnabas felt something warm touch his cheek and then Matthew felt the same warmth touch his.

"Mother," he whispered. A soft sigh, was his answer, and he knew that she was pleased.

"And you will do what you must?" asked Barnabas, with an air of disbelief.

Matthew nodded, not able to trust himself to speak. His eyes bright with tears.

Barnabas closed the gap between them, looking at his son seriously. "I don' t envy you your task, Matthew. But I have lived too long, and I'm tired. A father shouldn't ask a son, to do what I'm asking you..."

Matt's face crumbled. "Father...!" he suddenly blurted out, as his tears suddenly started to fall. "I'm so sorry!"

Barnabas gathered his distraught son in his arms. "It's alright, Matthew. I understand. A father was never more proud of his son, than I am of you. You and Julia, have been my salvation. I want you to be happy with Megan. Love her, and treat her, as she should be. Always remember Matt that I love you, and always have. It won't be easy, and I won't blame you, if you'd rather Sebastian -."

"No, I'll do it," said Matt, wiping his eyes. "I will keep the vow, my grandfather could not," he continued, bravely.

They both glanced towards the window, knowing that dawn would not be far off. "When?" asked Matt.

"The sooner for you," began Barnabas. Seeing the distress on his son's face, he continued more gently. "As hard as it is, don't grieve for me." He glanced towards the window. "It's almost time."

"Father, I..." Matt began, but words failed him. Barnabas clasped him on the shoulder, giving him a squeeze of encouragement, before heading towards the basement door. He turned, and gazed at his son, for the very last time.

/

Matthew waited until he saw the first rays of the sun break the gloom of the drawing room of the Old House, before he headed to the secret room where the coffin was hidden. As he approached, he realised that his father hadn't closed the lid. He gazed down at the prone form; this was the first time he had ever seen his father like this and it give him an odd feeling.

He recalled Sebastian's words the night before, asking him if he could go through with this if he had too. He knew Sebastian would be waiting at the cottage with Megan, ready to do what must be done if he could not.

He knew Barnabas would not think any less of him if he couldn't. So many had promised him release over the centuries, he would not fail him now. He owed it to him.

He placed the stake over his father's heart, his hand trembling. Sweat began to form on his forehead, dampening his hair. He raised the mallet, high, as a trickle of sweat ran into his eye, making it sting.

With a muffled cry, he used it as an excuse not to carry out, what he had promised. He rubbed frantically at his stinging eye, anything to delay what lay ahead.

He looked down at the sleeping form of his father, and realised that he couldn't' t go through with it. This wasn't an ordinary vampire; it was his father!

He realised that he barely knew him, and if he went ahead, he would never have the opportunity.

He felt his tears threaten once more, and understood that if he didn't go ahead with it now, he never would. It was what his father wanted; to be reunited with his mother.

He plucked the courage from somewhere, and replaced the stake over his father's heart. His arm shook, as he raised the mallet once more, sweat blinding him, as he quickly brought the mallet crashing down. Tears mixed with sweat as his father cried out in agony, as the stake pierced his heart. Again, he raised the mallet, driving the stake deeper.

Barnabas screamed his fangs extended, as the stake drove deeper into his body, blood trickled from his lips, at the same time, his body, crumpled, turning first to a skeleton, then dust, and then...nothing.

Matthew watched in fascinated horror, as his father disintegrated before his eyes. The euphoria that had come with the other slayings was strangely absent, and he was grateful. He stumbled from the cellar, somehow, making his way blindly up to the first floor.

/

It seemed incredible to him, that after the horror of what he done, in the basement cellar of the place he had once called home, that the dawning day should seem so peaceful. He felt an inner peace settle within him, something he hadn't felt since he'd been a child.

As he made his way into the bright sunshine that was beginning to warm the air around him, he felt lightness in his heart. The birds sang in the tress, and a slight breeze brought with it a scent he hadn't smelt in years.

He turned to where it seemed the strongest. Tears sprang to his eyes as he saw the ghost of his mother, looking as she had when he'd been a child. She smiled, and he felt a stab at his heart. She wasn't alone. His father was with her. As he watched, they both smiled at him.

Julia offered her hand to his father's ghost, smiling, and a look passed between them. Barnabas smiled tenderly, taking the offered hand, and they both turned to Matthew. They were together again. He felt warmth of their love for him, and for each other wash over him as they faded from sight.

He stared at the place where they had been, to say their goodbyes, and wiped savagely at his eyes. Megan and Sebastian would be waiting for him.

He turned his steps towards the village, the lightness in his heart growing. His parents were finally at peace, and he found himself, looking eagerly towards a brighter future.

A Collins was back in Collinsport.

The End


End file.
